


This City Will Go Up In Flames

by GoOffCredits



Series: Tales of the FAHC [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Fake AH Crew, Kidnapping, Kinda, M/M, Torture, mild prescription drug abuse?, mild smut at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-08-04 07:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16342724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoOffCredits/pseuds/GoOffCredits
Summary: An up-and-coming gang has threatened the FAHC. Heads are rolling, fires are burning, and the crew is shaking. As tensions between members flare up, who will and who won't survive the crazy forces that threaten to tear them apart?





	1. CHAPTER 1 - GAVIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, y'all wanted another Freewood story??? Get ready! Last one was fluffy as fuck. Get ready to want to rip your brains out at this drama, mama!

                The fire burned high into the air. The fumes and ash making their way directly into Gavin’s lungs. But he just watched; he watched as the shop was engulfed in a bright orange and yellow inferno. The smoke danced and churned in the night sky, reaching its deep black puffs high into the air, closer and closer to the heavens. The rumble and cracking of the building and the fire itself was cacophonous and rang in Gavin’s ears. A horrendous tune. A nightmarish one.

                Beside him, Michael huffed. “Third one this month,” He shook his head, getting out his phone and taking a picture of the damage, presumably sending it to Trevor or Matt.

                But Gavin just continued to watch on. Continued to watch the way the flames rolled out of the windows, almost unreal in their motions. He gripped his pistol tight, wanting to rip his gaze away. And yet, a moth to a flame, something drew his eyes to the brightness of it all.

                He heard a ringing for a moment, and then slowly, as if being submerged by water, all the sound around him went fuzzy. This fire, much like the ones before it, wasn’t an accident. And the ones after wouldn’t be accidents either. The flames, angry and red as they were, hit Gavin’s face with a hot and aggressive wind. The heat from it so intense that he had to shut his eyes. Had to shut off any sense. It was all too intense. The noise and the heat and the bright, bright fire. But gradually his hearing was clearing up, and he could hear Michael calling to him repeatedly.

                “Hey, hey,” Michael tapped Gavin’s shoulder. “You alright boi?”

                “Michael,” Gavin looked to him, his voice just barely a whisper above the deafening roar of the fire. “We’ve got to kill them.”

~*~

                From the open window, Gavin could hear the faint sounds of crickets outside. He didn’t think they’d be so far in the city. But he learned new things every day, he supposed. The breeze that the open window let in was nice and cool as it brushed against his back and arms. But still, he couldn’t sleep. He instead chose to watch Ryan beside him, softly breathing and dreaming. Though it was dark, his eyes had adjusted, and the soft moonlight that fell in the room did help to illuminate certain areas.

                Carefully, as to not disturb the other, he let his legs swing over the side of the bed. He got up and made his way towards the window, kneeling in front of it in order to get a better look at the clear night sky. The chirping of the crickets made a smile creep slowly onto his face. A type of contentment came onto him that he found only really occurred when he was at Ryan’s place. It just felt so far away. Far, far away from the chaos and the noise and the flames.

                Gavin remembered how long it had taken him to wash the ash off of his body. And how sweet Ryan had been when he helped. But however much tender care Ryan had shown him was a front, and Gavin could see right through it. He was worried. The lot of them had been shaken, and Ryan wasn’t left unaffected. The Vagabond was just a mask. A mask to hide the pain and the fear and everything that Ryan couldn’t share with others.

                A quick glance back to the bed and Gavin could see Ryan continue to sleep safe and sound. His smile grew, and his eyelids suddenly felt very heavy. So quietly he snuck back into bed and curled up close next to Ryan.

~*~

                “I’m tellin’ you, Gav, you shoulda been there,” Michael beamed as he talked about his newborn child. Gavin couldn’t remember the last time he had seen such a pure look in his eyes. So enthralled. His little family being the center of his world. Gavin was honored to be part of it. “She’s got the cutest laugh, man.”

                “Aw, well take a video next time!”

                Michael shook his head. “Lindsay and I gotta be smart about this. We’re only taking pictures of her with disposable cameras or polaroids or other shit that can’t be traced.”

                The thought didn’t even occur to him. That pictures on their phones and messages and videos could be easily traced back to them. At that point in his career, he didn’t really think twice about snapping a picture of himself with all his other close gang friends. But he also wasn’t scared. He didn’t have much to protect.

                Well, not before, at least.

                He took a quick glance to the Vagabond, who sat in the corner of the room, looking at something on his phone.

                They’d been dating for a few months. It was the longest relationship Gavin had been in for a long while. Longer than he could remember. Dating in the mob scene was difficult, to say the least. It was reasonable that most partners didn’t want to be involved in their ring of crime, especially when it was an infamous group like the FAHC. But people that didn’t mind were often taken, killed, traumatized, or at the very least got fed up with the late hours and dangerous stunts. And while dating someone in the same dodgy profession is not only risky and extremely dangerous, it’s also a huge relief. Because at the end of the day, Gavin could talk earnestly and openly to Ryan. About details of the job that he could never talk about before to past partners. And what made it even better is that Ryan understood. He understood and he helped Gavin. It was a two way street as well. Give and take. It was the most equal relationship Gavin had been in. The most rewarding. It wasn’t perfect; Gavin found that Ryan had the tendency to want to be right a lot of the time, and that often came with lots of bickering and annoying conversations. Though that was part of his charm, Gavin supposed. Even if it was an incredibly annoying charm.

                Geoff entered in the conference room with Jack, the both of whom were looking rather busy with papers that they passed back and forth and murmured about. The Brit couldn’t quite make out their whispers, but it seemed rather serious.

                Recently, Jack and Geoff in particular had been on edge. An up and coming gang had made a bit of a ruckus back in November, and the crew thought that they handled it by killing off a few of their core members. But like a weed, they came back shortly after and with a vengeance. The crew didn’t snip them at the roots. Gavin was hoping that it wouldn’t be the case. That they’d take the message and skip town like the last few gangs that tried similar things. But this gang was different.

                A week back a present was left at the doorstep of the warehouse. The head of a civilian. They didn’t know who this man was, or what his connection to the rival gang was. But there was something interesting on him: A brand on the center of his forehead. Gavin wasn’t told what the brand was. Geoff and Jack had kept that under wraps. It didn’t matter anyway; they knew what the brand was. And from the looks on their faces, Gavin assumed that it was time that they talked about this mysterious new gang.

                “Okay,” Geoff cleared his throat. “You’re all probably wondering why I called you here.”

                Shockingly, nobody spoke. Jack just quietly sat down in the nearest open seat and continued to flip through a few papers that she had set down in front of her. And as Gavin glanced around at everyone else, he could see how nervous they all were. Rocks were forming in Gavin’s stomach. Something wasn’t right.

                “So,” Geoff sighed and leaned against the bulletin board on the wall. It was apparent that he avoided eye contact intentionally, instead choosing to gaze down at the floor or at his hands, which nervously jiggled the papers around or stroked at his long beard. “The gang that’s popped up recently. I think we oughta address that.”

                Jack nodded to Geoff for just a moment before returning to her papers.

                “We’re not gonna let them continue to disrespect us like this. This is our city. If they want it they’ll have to fight us. And no way we’re gonna lose.”

                “Geoff,” Ray’s voice was quiet. Tentative. Like almost he himself didn’t want to ask what he was about to ask. “What about the head?”

                “The head,” Geoff paused.

                Something was definitely wrong. Their leader, normally fearless and direct, was hesitating. Sweating. Nervous as he relayed this news to his crew.

                “We managed to track down who it was,” His clear discomfort of the situation was something astronomically strange and new. “It- he- uh… His name was Geoff.”

                “What?” Gavin could hear Michael shift in his seat. “With a G?”

                “Yeah,” A harsh swallow from their kingpin. “With a G.”

                A few glances were exchanged at the table. But before people could speak up Geoff cleared his throat and picked up a folder off the table.

                “We’ve contacted his family; they weren’t involved in the crime scene at all. It seems like they sought him out because of the name. Now, it’s obvious that a lot of people in this city know my name. But I’m worried about the safety of the rest of you.”

                Geoff stopped for a moment to lean against the far wall, glancing at each member of the crew for just a moment. “We can let ourselves get nervous for now. We can react now while we’re with one another. But we can’t cower. We can’t let this group know that they’ve shaken us. We have a file here of the locations they’ve been known to frequent. We need scouts sent there undercover doing information gathering. Any shady figures or any individuals sporting their insignia must be taken note of. Once we figure out their pattern of assaults we’ll cut them off.”

                “They still burning shit down?”

                “Yeah,” Jack answered for Geoff, turning to Michael. “The fire that you and Gavin found the other week wasn’t the last. There was one last night near La Puerta. I haven’t been able to connect it to the others quite yet, and although it seems random from an outsiders perspective… I just don’t think it is. I think it’s calculated. I just have to find a pattern.”

                “In the meantime,” Geoff spoke up once more. “Be on the lookout. Jeremy, Vagabond, you two should take first shifts at the locations.” Geoff slid the files over to Jeremy, who immediately began flipping through the multiple documents inside.

                Gavin’s stomach twisted at Geoff’s request for Ryan to go scope out this gang. He knew that the Vagabond could handle himself. And yet, if this gang was willing to behead a random civilian as a show that they knew the identities of the Fakes, what on Earth would they be willing to do to the Fakes themselves?

                As everyone left the conference room, Gavin turned to Jeremy and the Vagabond, who were both reviewing the papers given to them. “Hey,” He said, his voice clearly giving away how tense he was. “Be careful you two.”

                “Of course, Gav,” Jeremy smiled. “They won’t even know we’re there.”

                His reassuring smile definitely hid his anxiety. Gavin had known Jeremy for long enough. And through the eyeholes of the Vagabond mask, he could see that Ryan was just as nervous and tense as he was. Not often did they get gangs in the city that were as dangerous and cunning as themselves.

                Yes, this gang was surely different. Gavin clutched his stomach as he left, his insides still tangled in knots and mind racing with the danger of it all.

~*~

                “Geoff wants me to try to hack their phones once you guys find out who they are,” Gavin said to Ryan over the phone. Typically he would’ve just gone home with the other man, but because of the reconnaissance mission Ryan was sent on he would’ve been working way into the night, and Gavin really didn’t want to hang around the warehouse for that long. So instead he went home and waited impatiently for Ryan to call him once the other was home safe from the information gathering. “Since we killed their hackers a few weeks back there’d be no one to stop me.”

                “Why couldn’t we have just killed them all?” Ryan sighed.

                “Well they’re weird,” Gavin leaned against his kitchen counter. His stomach was yelling at him to eat something, anything, but he felt like if he were to eat he’d just get sick immediately. He grabbed his elbow with his free hand and leaned against his phone. “They don’t really stick together. Not like us.  They were all spread apart when we found ‘em, remember? You and Michael found the hackers near San Andreas and Ray and I were way downtown when we found the girl, and the money launderer was a bit aways from her as well. I think Geoff was way far up north from us when he led the bruiser on a chase.”

                There was a pause, and Gavin could practically hear Ryan try to connect some dots in his head. “Multiple hideaways maybe?”

                “I’m not sure,” After a quick glance to the clock on his oven, he let out a long sigh and closed his eyes tight. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been this nervous.”

                Ryan was silent for a moment, and Gavin wished that he could just be with him. To be held in his arms and told that things were gonna be okay. Everything felt so right with him. To be away made him feel wrong and vulnerable. “We’ll figure it out. They can’t hide forever.”

                “We should probably get some sleep.”

                “Alright,” There was clear hesitation in his voice. “Good night, Gav.”

                “Good night, Ry.”

~*~

                A few days had passed since their initial meeting. Gavin was stationed to survey cell phone towers near the potential hideout areas. He was also tasked with using a software program that he himself made to find and collect data from smart phones that cell phone towers didn’t receive. Though, much to his surprise, nothing he had done turned up any results. Was there another hacker they didn’t know about? Maybe the woman had lied to them.

                _“Please, don’t kill me,” She cried, her hands held up high to show Ray and Gavin that she carried nothing on her. “I’ll tell you anything, please.”_

_“How many in your group?” Ray asked quickly._

_“Twelve!”_

_“How many hackers? And how did they get our information?” Gavin was quick on this question. He need to know how they got past all of his safeguards. What they were working against. What lengths they needed to go to in order to better protect themselves._

_“Two! And I don’t know! I’m not one of the hackers, I’m just an informant, please!”_

_With a quick glance to Ray, Gavin shook his head and turned around to walk away. Her quiet pleas for her life were a mantra off her tongue, and then once Gavin had heard a single silenced pistol shot, her desperate voice stopped completely._

_Eleven._

                Gavin rubbed his eyes and pushed his rolling chair away from his desk. He didn’t feel like spending anymore time behind the computer screen. Whatever this group was doing to protect themselves and their information was working. They needed a better, more hands-on approach. Fight fire with fire. In their case, maybe literally.

                Michael popped his head into the computer room and motioned for Gavin to follow him. Almost immediately Gavin recognized that they were taking a clear path to the conference room. After asking what it was about, Michael responded, “Geoff and Jack apparently found something. They wanted to tell us about their new plan.”

                They were the first in the conference room besides Jack and Geoff themselves, and the two older crew members told the lads to wait patiently for everyone else to show up. Gavin’s leg bounced where he sat, nearly drilling a hole through the floor in anticipation. This wasn’t a heist, or a small hit on a convenience store. This was a plan for protection. For survival. To show that the Fakes don’t go down easily. Gavin wasn’t sure if his shaking was due to nerves or excitement. But either way, the prospect of finally killing all of those trouble makers definitely got Gavin all wound up.

                Once everybody had gotten into the conference room, Geoff had informed them of a pattern of similarities between their arson targets.

                “They all seem to be within a few miles of this warehouse,” Geoff pointed to a location near the southern storm drain. “Somewhere near La Puerta. The fires they’ve started downtown have either been copy cat crimes or outliers. We’re,” Geoff nodded to Jack. “About ninety percent sure that this is where they’re hiding out.”

                “What if it’s not?” Jeremy asked.

                “Well we’re gonna clear it regardless.”

                In front of him, Gavin could see Michael shaking his head. “Seems like a trap.”

                “If it is, we’ll be well armed. But we can’t sit on our asses and wait for them to come to us. We have to take initiative.”

                Geoff then turned around and grabbed a dry-erase marker from nearby. He drew a vertical line on the whiteboard and put “infiltrators” on one side and “lookouts” on the other. “I’m gonna divide you guys into two teams. Now, again, we don’t know if they’ll actually be there, but it’s a very, very high chance that they will be. So infiltrators will probably see a lot of the action inside, killing off everyone they see, save for any apparent hostages. Lookouts will scout the perimeter of the building and kill any stragglers or escapees. Understood?”

                At the group nodding, Geoff started to write names down. He and Jack were not going to be either, he said, as they were going to operate getaway vehicles and try to make rounds to ensure that everyone could get away safe. He wrote Jeremy and Michael in the infiltrators list first, which made the two quietly mutter their excitement. And thankfully, Gavin’s name was added to the infiltrator list as well. He pumped his fist and hissed out an excited “yes”, fist bumping Michael after doing so. It’d been so long since he had been on the ground with everyone else in the action, especially with the other lads. Getting to kill off people that had threatened them for months was going to be nothing less than cathartic. He couldn’t wait to see them beg for their lives.

                But then a grumble came from behind him. One that didn’t belong to anyone there. At least, nobody that spoke normally.

                He turned to see the Vagabond shaking his head and crossing his arms. Confused, Geoff asked, “Is there a problem?”

                The Vagabond huffed out an annoyed breath of air and got up from the table abruptly, startling a few there. But Gavin remained still. Watching the Vagabond move around the table and take the marker from Geoff with a concerned look. But the concern didn’t last. Not when he watched the Vagabond cross Gavin’s name off of the infiltrator list and write “vagabond” in sloppy handwriting in place of it. He walked back to his chair and sat down, clearly still frustrated. Gavin was in utter disbelief. He was so taken aback that he didn’t even realize he made a noise of protest until all the eyes turned to him.

                “Excuse me?” He laughed. “Is that a joke?”

                “Why do you think you should go in his place?” Geoff raised an eyebrow. “Do you not think he’s capable?”

                The Vagabond lowered his eyes to the table and slumped back in his chair. After a moment he turned his head slightly away from Gavin. What the fuck. What the fuck was Ryan doing? Gavin laughed, again, out of pure disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” Gavin stood up from his chair and turned to the Vagabond fully.

                The shock of knowing that Ryan didn’t trust him, didn’t think he could do it, it struck Gavin right in his heart. How long had Ryan thought of him in this way? Gavin even thought that he was improving! He had gotten more accurate with his shots, more quiet with his steps. And yet Ryan was there, shaking his head and giving Gavin the coldest stare he’d ever seen. Gavin felt like he couldn’t breathe. “You seem to forget that I can do just as much as you, and that I’ve even been here longer than you!” His voice was raised, and he didn’t really care that he was making a scene. The way the Vagabond stood up from his chair and eyed Gavin down just made the lad even more heated than before.

                “Who do you think was doing this shit before you got here?!” Gavin could feel Jack’s hand on his, a silent plea to step down. Gavin turned to Geoff, who just look at the pair incredulously. “Keep my name on the infiltrator list.”

                The Vagabond slammed his fist onto the table and continued to glare at Gavin. No fucking way Ryan would take this from him. No fucking way Ryan was doubting Gavin’s abilities. It hurt, frankly, to think that Ryan thought that little of Gavin’s skills. But he didn’t focus on the hurt; he focused on the pure anger that seared through him. “Just because you think you’re the scariest thing in the room doesn’t mean that you get full reign on-,”

                Before Gavin could finish, a low, growling, loud voice came from underneath the Vagabond’s mask. “We need to do this and we need to do this right or we’ll all be fucking killed.” He slammed his fist against the table to emphasize certain points.

                Every single soul in that room was still. No emotion, no response. But after a moment Gavin could feel the fear spread throughout his bones. And then after that, a wave of embarrassment. The first time he talked in front of the group, and it was to intimidate Gavin into submission? Gavin didn’t feel angry anymore. He sunk down into his chair and looked at the ground. Behind him he could hear the Vagabond sit back down in his own chair as well. Almost immediately Jack’s hand came to Gavin’s shoulder, squeezing slightly.

                “We’ll,” Geoff cleared his throat. “We’ll, uh, pick this up tomorrow, guys. Vagabond, I need to see you in my office. Now.” The pair exited the room rather hastily, leaving the rest of the crew in the conference room.

                They were all quiet for a moment. Still whirling from the confrontation and the fact that after so many years, the Vagabonds first words were words of defiance. Of disrespect towards another crew member. Maybe it’s not how he intended it to be. But it’s certainly how he came off. As the seconds ticked by Gavin grew more and more frustrated, until eventually he got up, told everyone that he wanted to be alone for a while, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmk what y'all think. I love your comments and hope that those of you who enjoyed AHWHM like this one!


	2. CHAPTER 2 - RYAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this might seem like a slow start to this story, but trust me, this build up will be worth it.

                He had spent the night before restlessly tossing and turning in his bed, the image of Gavin’s lifeless, detached head on his doorstep. Nothing was safe anymore. They knew where the warehouse was. They knew Geoff’s name. Everything he had worked towards was crumbling around him and now the person that he cared the most about was going to die. When he dragged his exhausted body out of bed and got himself ready for work, his mind was still the buzzing and chaotic flurry of emotion and thoughts from the night before. But when he got to the warehouse and sat down at that meeting and listened to Geoff say that they had a lead, he knew that he had to step up. Really protect what was his.

                And then Gavin’s name was put onto the list of people who were going inside the warehouse. And Ryan couldn’t accept that. Gavin would be killed, as those people were absolute bat shit crazy. They had no idea what they were up against and what lengths the other gang would go to in order to eliminate the FAHC. Besides, Ryan was the one with more experience and better skills set to those particular missions. He’d be able to protect Gavin so long as he was doing what he did best. Though he didn’t expect Gavin’s defiance. His angry shouts that had ripples of betrayal and hurt casting through.

                He didn’t intend for any of it to happen. It was just all too fast. Too hectic.

                He broke one of his major rules and spoke in front of the crew. Desperate to try to get Gavin off of his back. He could explain himself later. When they were alone together. No mask, no crew, just them. Gavin would surely listen. But the look on Geoff’s face told Ryan that it wouldn’t be until much later.

                All Ryan could do was sit and watch Geoff carefully; the other man sitting behind his desk eyeing Ryan up and down, stroking his beard. Eventually his jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I need to know what’s going on between you and Gavin, and don’t give me the fucking silent treatment.” His voice was low. Tired. He had too much on his plate to be dealing with this.

                It was all too late anyway, right? They’d heard his voice. Why make things harder than they needed to be. Besides, he trusted Geoff. He trusted Geoff’s intuition and decisions and never once did his kingpin lead him astray. Though at the same time, Ryan could feel his hands shaking and jaw tensing up. He curled his hands into fists and let out a deep, shaky breath.

                “Nothing.”

                “That’s a load of bullshit,” Geoff smacked his hand down onto his desk and then pointed at Ryan. The sudden change in his demeanor made Ryan nearly jump out of his skin. But he remained still in the seat, staring forward through the eye holes of the Vagabond mask. He looked into Geoff’s own eyes, which were a bright fire that burned so differently than his tone, which was cold as ice. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

                “I,” Ryan’s words didn’t want to come out. He found himself stuck. He and Gavin hadn’t talked about opening up and telling the crew since Ryan panicked at the party. Gavin, always wanting to make Ryan feel comfortable, didn’t bring it up again. And for that, Ryan was grateful. But at the same time, he also had no idea what Gavin wanted. He couldn’t just tell Geoff without consulting Gavin. “I don’t know.”

                “You don’t know?” Geoff’s tone was dripping with sarcasm.

                “I can’t, Geoff,” Ryan noticed how hard his hands shook. And Geoff had probably noticed how nervous he was by that point as well. With a defeated sigh, Geoff leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just can’t talk about it.”

                “Alright,” He said. “Well then tell me this, why were you so adamant about Gavin not going?”

                “He’ll get himself killed,” Ryan found his words muffled by the Vagabond mask to be annoying, but he wasn’t yet willing to take it off. Not quite yet. That was his only security blanket. His only fail save. Though it was incredibly hard to breathe with it on all of a sudden. “You and I both know that I’d get the job done better and safer.”

                “So you’re really saying that he’s not capable?”

                “I didn’t say that.”

                “Sure sounded like it,” Geoff huffed and shook his head once more. “Look, I wanted the Lads all together because their dynamic works. Save Ray, who’ll be better in a sniping position, but that’s beside the point. If you think you’ll do better in Gavin’s place, talk it out with him. But remember that we have to be working together. We can’t afford to be at one another’s throats when an outside force already is.”

                Ryan nodded, not saying anything. Geoff was right. Of course he was. But it didn’t change the fact that safest course of action for the group would be to have Ryan in Gavin’s place. He’d just have to convince the Brit.

                “Alright. Get out of my office.”

~*~

                The Vagabond went back into the conference room to discover that Jack was the only one left there. At his entrance she glanced up and her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing. Instead glancing back down to her laptop and typing away at the keyboard.

                Carefully he walked up towards her. As unintimidating as possible. But he could still tell that she was tense simply from his presence only. “If you’re looking for Gavin,” She never made eye contact. “He said he wanted to be alone. I don’t know where he went.”

                She seemed genuine enough. Ryan just shook his head and left the room. There were only a select few places Gavin could’ve been. The computer room was empty, Ray was the only one in the break room, and nobody was in the small reception area save for Matt, who sat behind the desk and desperately avoided looking the Vagabond’s way.

                The air outside nipped at Ryan’s hands and seeped into the mask from the eye holes. It was a cold January in Los Santos that year. It had even snowed slightly a few times throughout the past month or so. Ryan attributed that to climate change. But however cold the inner city got, the outskirts were even colder, especially on the beachside lot that the FAHC called home.

                Ryan made his way past the storage area, past the gun range, past the armory, all the way to the edge of the lot. He knew Gavin liked the beach. How could he not? The clear horizon and endless blue was nearly hypnotizing. And often the skies were beautiful there, the multicolor sunsets and sunrises being so warm that at times it seemed like the sky was just an easel that was painted by a whole array of paints. But the sky  was all monochrome then. Light grey clouds dotting the entire sky and not letting a single bit of actual sunlight through. It made the rest of the world seem to monotone.  

                Gavin wasn’t on the beach. Which only left for one other area. A place Gavin only went when he was particularly frustrated or in desperate need to let off excess energy.

                Ryan entered the gym and was welcomed by a few different sounds. The first sound that he located the source of was Jeremy punching the shit out of a punching bag in the makeshift boxing ring on the left side of the gym. Luckily the lad didn’t seem to notice that he was there; he was too caught up in his training. The loud punches rang throughout the gym and made it feel as though Ryan was the one getting hit. Though another noise was also being drilled into Ryan’s head: The rhythmic stomping of feet against a treadmill. Fast and hard. Ryan looked to the very far right corner of the gym and saw Gavin staring straight ahead, hyper focused on whatever noise was coming through the headphones he wore. And it was very clear that he had seen Ryan. No way he could block the Vagabond out of his peripheral vision.

                He walked up to the treadmill and stood for a moment, expecting Gavin to turn the treadmill off and at least tell him to fuck off. But rather, the Brit just continued to run and ignore Ryan. He wore a loose fitting muscle tank and track shorts, lots of his tanned and sweaty skin ever visible to Ryan. His chest was heaving and his muscles were straining, obviously he’d been running for a while. Actually, Ryan was left a bit upset that Gavin was mad at him because if it weren’t for that he would’ve already jumped on the blond. Though his need to talk to Gavin definitely outweighed his need to fuck him, and after a minute or so more of being ignored he finally reached over and turned the treadmill off.

                Gavin’s jaw clenched and he immediately set the treadmill back up to its high speed. Ryan shook his head, his levels of tolerance at their minimum by that point. While Gavin was typically pretty level headed and avoided arguments and very rarely got mad, there were still those few times that the bits of his immature personality overpowered everything else. Again Ryan reached over and turned the machine off and this time ripped an earbud out of Gavin’s ear, leaning close and growling out, “Listen to me.”

                Not even turning to look at him, Gavin popped the earbud right back into his ear and turned the treadmill back on. He clicked the volume on the side of his phone so loud that it got to the point where even Ryan could hear it. Huffing out a breath of annoyance, Ryan’s eyes followed the cord of the machine to the nearest outlet and yanked the plug from the wall, quickly going back to Gavin’s side. The other just continued to stare forward, his long strides eventually slowing down to a jog and then rolling to a complete stop. His hands immediately found a place beneath his lungs and he nearly doubled over trying to catch his breath.

                “Listen to me,” Ryan repeated, plucking the earbud out once again. “You’re being immature.”

                “I’m being immature?!” Gavin yelled mockingly. He continued to breathe heavily. “You’re havin’ a bloody laugh.” He still didn’t look at Ryan’s face.

                Thankfully, Ryan could still hear the sounds of Jeremy hitting the punching bag over and over. He had no idea if the other was intentionally not paying them any mind, or just genuinely wrapped up in his training. Either way, Ryan was grateful.

                Whatever Ryan wanted to say was vastly different than what he did say. He wanted to say that all he wanted to do, all he’s ever wanted to do, was protect Gavin. Do his best to keep the both of them safe. But instead, he lowered his voice and told Gavin, “I’m best equipped to handle this kind of situation and you know it.”

                “Dear Lord!” Gavin continued to stare off anywhere except towards Ryan. “I’ve been in this business for how long? I’ve been killin’ people for how long? And you’re disrespecting me like this?”

                “I’m not disrespecting, Gavin, I’m just saying,”

                “Well I don’t like what you’re saying,” Gavin lowered his voice, his genuine upset at the situation ever apparent. His heavy breathing didn’t let up, but the breaths were coming out shaky now. Shit. This was not how this was supposed to go. “I’m fully capable of handling myself, R-,” Gavin stopped himself, eyes screwing shut. “Just leave me alone, Vagabond.”

                Gavin hopped off the treadmill and put his earbuds back in his ears, his eyes locked to his phone. “I’ve got thirty minutes left of my run.” Then he jogged out of the gym without even giving Ryan so much as a passing glance. But Ryan’s eyes were locked onto him as he left.

                Just as he was about to storm out of there and brood someplace else, a voice caught his attention. “Hey,” Jeremy called from the other side of the gym. As Ryan looked to him, he saw the faintest flinch from the shorter man. But he tried his best to keep his resolve. “Do you wanna train with me real quick? Nothing too intensive.”

                Beating the shit out of a teammate and having it be seen as constructive? Releasing frustration under the guise of training? Count him in. He walked over to Jeremy and was already shedding his jacket. Jeremy had started to move to get the stepladder to remove the training bag from the ceiling, but Ryan was already doing it.

                “Thanks,” Jeremy shifted around, clearing his throat and leaning against the ropes of the ring. “So,” He watched as the Vagabond removed his shoes and cracked his knuckles, already getting into a defensive stance. “Kicking is fine. No face, I don’t have mouth guards on hand. And uh, please don’t kill me?” Jeremy laughed, albeit nervously, most likely trying to lighten the tension that clearly hung in the air around the Vagabond.

                But laughing wasn’t going to solve anything. Neither was talking. At least, not now. Ryan just nodded his head lightly and straightened his back. The other man’s smile fell from his face. He nodded back to the Vagabond and got into a defensive position as well.

                Ryan repeated the mantra of rules over and over in his head. If he remembered the rules, every single one, nothing could go wrong. Cover the face with the forearms. Circle the opponent and keep the torso and face towards them. If they’re particularly jumpy and impulsive, as is the case with Jeremy, lunge slightly to gauge their reaction time. Two strikes made towards Ryan’s abdomen; block them with the elbows and quickly return to protecting the face.

                “You’re thinking a lot,” Jeremy’s voice broke Ryan’s trance. He looked the other in the eyes and could see a line clear between his eyebrows. His hands were brought back up to his face, but he continued to talk past them. His legs never stopped moving around Ryan. “Don’t. I feel like you think too much.”

                Cover the face with the forearms. Don’t linger the gaze on one part of the opponent for too long. A right hook was made towards Ryan’s abdomen once more, but he swatted Jeremy’s fist away with his forearm. Using the opportunity, he rolled on the ball of his left foot, pivoted his hips, and arced his right foot outwards, landing a kick right below Jeremy’s ribs. At the impact Jeremy audibly grunted, but continued to move around Ryan as though he’d never even been touched. Roll back the left foot and bring the right down to its original position, keeping the knees bent. Cover the face with the forearms.

                “If you’re gonna try to convince Gavin that you should go in his place, you can’t stay in your head,” Jeremy lunged towards Ryan, but the other didn’t flinch. Jeremy didn’t usually hit with his left. “He’s stubborn.”

                Jeremy went in for a right hook once more, but shockingly didn’t commit, and actually landed a rather harsh hit on the Vagabond’s upper chest. A surprised grunt came from Ryan, but he never stopped covering his face.

                He rolled the ball of his left foot back once more, pivoting his hips and swinging his right foot harshly towards Jeremy. Ryan could feel the force of the kick and knew it would land particularly rough. But Jeremy shifted his body and narrowly avoided the kick, swinging another left hook and this time landing it in the middle of Ryan’s stomach. The fucker hit hard, Ryan would give him that. Return to a defensive stance. Don’t keep the eyes focused on one part of the opponent for too long. Cover the face with the forearms.

                Then, in the blink of an eye, Jeremy swept a leg underneath Ryan’s feet, and the tower came crumbling down. He landed rather hard on his tailbone, but he was more focused on the shock of how Jeremy had pulled a fast one on him. For a moment it was quiet, but after a second a water bottle came into his peripheral. Jeremy was looking down to the Vagabond with a softer stare now. Perhaps even a pitiful one. His eyebrows were still furrowed and his lips were pursed shut. After accepting the water bottle, Ryan wondered why his legs didn’t want to pick himself up. But it didn’t matter. Jeremy just bent down and plopped himself on the ground near Ryan.

                “We’ve all got a lot going on right now,” Jeremy fumbled around with the water bottle in his own hands, rubbing his thumb over the droplets of water that rolled down the side of the plastic. His eyes were hyper focused on the beads of condensation. “And I feel like a lot of us are really in our own heads at all this. But we gotta communicate with one another better, man. We can’t let each other down like this.”

                A hot head at times, sure. But he was an adult. And apparently an effective communicator. Ryan looked down at the own bottle in his hands. Why was it so easy for everyone else? To talk so candidly or do things that were out of their comfort zone? No matter how many rules or steps Ryan repeated in his head, there’d never be an easy guide for opening up. Cleaning a gun? He could do. Kickboxing and bare knuckle boxing? He could do. Stitching up a wound? He could do. Trying to explain to Gavin whatever complex thoughts raced throughout his brain constantly? He couldn’t even explain it to himself.

                The two sat in silence for another minute or so before Ryan finally looked up at Jeremy. The other was already looking at him. “Thank you,” His voice was so quiet. He didn’t like that he felt the need to say even just those few words. Soon the crew would expect more from him. And he was unsure if he would ever be able to deliver. But the smile on Jeremy’s face made him feel alright.

                “Don’t mention it.”

~*~

                His first thought was to try to bust down the door to Gavin’s apartment and force the two to talk. But then he thought back on just how annoyed and distraught Gavin had been, and how being that forward might not be the best idea. Besides, Gavin’s car wasn’t in the garage of his apartment complex anyway.

                _Gav,_ Ryan sat in the front seat of his car, tapping at his phone and trying his best to type a clear and cohesive message to the other. Hopefully one that wasn’t aggressive that the other in no way could misconstrue. _I really need to apologize to you. Where are you?_

It took a minute or so for the other to respond, and in that short time Ryan found his gut twisted in knots and head swimming with every bad and intrusive thought that had plagued him since the uprising of the rival gang.

                _I’m at Michael and Lindsay’s,_ Ryan tried to find inconsistencies in the messages from Gavin’s usual messages, trying to detect Gavin’s tone. _Seeing the baby._

                What was he supposed to say? His thumbs hesitated over the screen and each time he went in to type something he would immediately change his mind. Eventually he forced himself to take a deep breath.

                “Don’t be so in your head,” Ryan muttered, still hovering his shaking fingers slightly above the keypad. After a second he pressed Gavin’s name and started a call.

                The dialing tone was the most unpleasant tone Ryan had heard in a while. It was harsh and monotonous, and pierced his ear as he waited for Gavin to pick up. But it never went through. It  rang until Ryan heard the familiar robotic female voice ask if he wanted to leave a message. As he pressed the end call button, he could feel his stomach tighten even more. It wasn’t until Gavin had messaged him once more that he realized he wasn’t even breathing properly.

                _Can we talk about this later?_

                Later. How much later would they have? How long until the FAHC enacted the raid on the warehouse? How long until the rival gang retaliated? How long until Ryan could be with Gavin again? He didn’t hate waiting for most things. A good shot, the perfect time to strike, the years upon years he spent in solitude. He was a patient person. But his mind did not want to harbor the idea of patience at this time. But he could do it for Gavin. If Gavin wanted to wait to talk about it, fine. He’d be the most patient man in the world.

                _Okay,_ He replied after a while. _Good night, Gavin._

                He didn’t get a response. And he wouldn’t admit this to anybody, but that did keep him up much later than he thought it would.

                No way on Earth did he want to lose Gavin. But at that point, was it more likely that he’d lose Gavin from the gang, or by his own hand? Regardless, he knew he needed to fix this. He had to be the one to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite AH series might be the Hitman Let's Watches I think. There's something about Ryan and Gavin's opposing play styles and the way that Gavin, Ryan, and Jeremy bounce off of one another that makes me so happy. I definitely want to incorporate more sneaky assassin/hitman style missions into my stories.


	3. CHAPTER 3 - GAVIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience, guys. Also, WWIT (my other FAHC series that's centered on Joelay) will absolutely continue, I just need some time to sort plot points on it. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter!! It was really fun to write.

                Taking the targets down and setting up new ones was always Gavin’s least favorite part of the shooting range. But in order for him to practice, there had to be set up. It just sucked sometimes. Especially when Michael was beside him but not talking, a clear tense air between the two. Since going over to his last night, Gavin had a bit too much to drink and ended up saying a bit too much. But he’d always had very little self control when it came to alcohol and tended to over share. One of the conversations, Gavin remembered, was about the Vagabond. Luckily enough, Gavin was still coherent enough to not say his name. A courtesy that Gavin, in retrospect, thought that Ryan didn’t deserve at the time, seeing as how big of a prick he was being about the infiltration of the other crew’s base.

                He remembered Michael looking hurt. The constant bouncing of the child on his leg slowing to a halt and the confusion on his face rising once he realized what Gavin was saying. Gavin couldn’t remember the words. It didn’t matter.

                Gavin clipped the target into the placeholder made specifically for it, and after he did he casted a quick glance to Michael on his right, who had his back turned to him, fiddling about with the mannequin that had fallen over. After a moment he saw Michael’s movement stop and his head bow slightly.

                “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

                Gavin looked back to the target in front of him. The red on it was too bright of a shade and looked hideous against the washed out green of the storage crate behind it. His hands went to smooth the target as much as possible. “I dunno.”

                He could feel Michael shift behind him. The eyes that bore into the back of his head were practically physical. Had it been a year or two in the past, Michael would be yelling. Screaming at the top of his lungs at Gavin. But Michael was older now. His voice was quiet now as he spoke to Gavin. “I…” He seemed to be at a loss for words, almost. His eyes rolling around, staring up into the sky as though there would be any answers there. “I just thought that like, you’d somehow gotten into his head. Paid him money to protect you or something. I… I don’t know. I just… I thought that- I thought that you’d tell me something like this.”

                “I couldn’t, Michael,” Gavin swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it just as hard to breathe as it was to talk.

                He could see out of the corner of his eye that Michael had fully turned to him now, but the Brit still didn’t want to look. “Gavin, how long?”

                “Michael,”

                “How long?”

                After a second Gavin shook his head. “Since the City Hall heist, I guess.”

                “That was fucking months ago!” His voice sounded hoarse. Like his mind wanted to yell but his vocal chords just wouldn’t allow it. “What, does he fuck you with his mask on or some shit?” His words hissed out past his gritted teeth.

                Gavin whipped around then, glaring hard into Michael’s fiery eyes. “Stop it, Michael.”

                “Why should I?!” He looked to Gavin like the other was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen. As if Gavin was the world’s biggest clown and that nobody but Michael could see it. Perhaps Gavin was a fool. But he felt his past secrecy and current anger to be totally justified.

                “R-,” Gavin cut himself off with a huff. “He’s just scared. He was going to tell you guys,” Michael scoffed and turned away from the other, shaking his head. Gavin could feel himself get even more frustrated. “He was!”

                “Gavin,” He could see Michael’s eyes glance around before he got closer to the Brit, his voice lowering so that just Gavin could hear, despite the fact that they were the only ones around. “We don’t know him.”

                “You don’t,” His face remained a consistent flat expression, but his tone was sharp and aggressive. It made something in Michael’s face twitch.

                “What do you know about him, huh? How do you know he’s not gonna kill you in your sleep if he thinks for even a second that you’ll double cross him? He could be fucking crazy for all we know!”

                Gavin was the one that scoffed that time. His disbelief and frustration ever apparent on his face. “You really don’t know him, Michael. He would never. But even… God forbid if he did, you really don’t think I could defend myself?”

                “He’s twice your size, Gavin. Be realistic.”

                There it was again. The crushing feeling of knowing that everyone around him thought just so little of him. That he couldn’t carry himself. That he couldn’t protect himself. Gavin turned back around to the target and started to smooth it out once more. A few wrinkles still remained here and there. Better to focus on fixing the things around him rather than the burning hole that Michael was glaring into the back of his head.

                Better to focus on something physical rather than the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy that crept up on him whenever he had conversations when the crew members.

                The silence that filled the air between them was angry, and Gavin wanted to be anywhere but there. So without even sparing a glance to Michael, he got his gun out from his holster and told the other man that they should probably get back to target practice. They didn’t speak again for the rest of the day.

~*~

                No sign of the Vagabond the whole day. It was kind of a relief, if Gavin was being honest. He in no way wanted to talk about what happened. He was still too heated. Too embarrassed. He could see the pitiful, sympathetic looks that Jack gave out of the corner of his eyes. Or the way that Geoff tensed up and looked like he wanted desperately to say something to him every time he walked by. With the presence of the other crew looming over them, Gavin really didn’t appreciate nor did he want the extra stress that the crew was exuding. 

                Another error message was displayed on Gavin’s screen. The message illuminated his whole face and shot like an arrow through his already pained head. The migraine he was sporting intensified at the error. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down his angry insides and pounding headache just for a second. Focus. Find an exploit in the system. Surely these people were much less skilled than he. No way they could keep all their shit hidden from him. He just had to work a little bit harder, a little bit longer, focus himself and stop getting those fucking error messages.

                But his eyes hurt so bad. When he stretched out from his chair, arms way behind his head, he could feel every bone in his body crack and creak. It felt like Heaven when he shut his eyes. Even if it was just for a few seconds.

                A soft knocking on the door to the computer room cut off his thoughts. Geoff stood nearby, one hand on the doorknob and the other in his pocket. A smile melted onto his face, but Gavin could still see the stress behind his features. All the worry was taking its toll. He managed a weak smile back somehow.

                “Hey,” Geoff’s eyes went to the floor as he wandered in. But he kept his distance from Gavin. The other just moved his chair slightly away from his desk, somehow feeling bad news oncoming. “I wanna talk to you, Gav.”

                His mouth was dry. He didn’t remember the last time he’d had any water. He’d been at this code for hours, trying desperately to gain access to any phone data in the vicinity of the warehouse that the other crew was bound to be at. Gavin took a quick glance back at his screen and then back to Geoff.

                He had to clear his throat before he could manage words. “What about?”

                The other shifted for a moment before walking towards Gavin and leaning against his desk. “It’s about the mission tomorrow,” It was really that soon? Gavin took a quick glance back to his screen and could feel panic course throughout his body.

                “Shit, I’ve not gotten anything new yet, but I’m working on it,”

                “It’s not that,” Geoff shook his head. He still avoided eye contact with Gavin. “I… I know I told you the other day that I wanted you on infiltration duty but I’m… I’m gonna sub you out.”

                It took a moment for his words to register for Gavin. But the minute they did, Gavin could feel how his own face shifted. How he couldn’t hide his anger and betrayal. Then he stopped for a moment and realized. “He talked you into sending him instead, didn’t he?”

                “Gavin,” Geoff shook his head and rubbed at his temple with one hand, clearly already exhausted with the situation. “I think it would be better to have you monitoring the perimeter with Ray. That way if you don’t see much you can go back and do surveillance from a safer location,”

                “This is bullshit!” Gavin slammed his hand down onto his desk and shot up from his chair like a rocket. “I’ve done more dangerous stuff than this, Geoff! I can handle this!”

                “It’s not about what you can handle, Gavin,” In no way did Geoff raise his voice. Not like Gavin did. He knew that the other had already made up his mind. But there was so much pent-up anger inside Gavin that was boiling. His resolve was crumbling. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to just losing it. “It’s about getting this done efficiently, and with the least amount of chance to lose anybody.”

                “This is such shit,” Pushing the chair out of his way, he fully left the vicinity of his desk and turned his back to Geoff. “What’d he say to you?”

                After a moment of silence, Gavin whipped around to see Geoff staring at him with knowing eyes and pursed lips. “You two need to talk about this. I’m not a messenger. I’m your boss.”

                “You’re supposed to be my friend, Geoff,” Why were his words coming out so shaky now? And why was it so hard to breathe? “Why does no one think I can handle myself?”

                “I know you can, Gavin, but the Vagabond is just better equipped to handle something like this,” Geoff noticed the way Gavin’s eyes shot to the floor and his hands balled up. “You may not like it but that’s just how it is. If this was a job for hacking you know I wouldn’t hesitate to send you.”

                “That’s not the only thing I’m good at!”

                “Obviously not, but everyone else here has their talents too. Jeremy, Michael, and the Vagabond are excellent shots. It would be stupid to not send them in.”

                He felt like such a child. Getting so worked up over something so small. Who really cared who went, so long as it got done? But the damage was already done. He’d already felt so beaten down and so belittled that every other little thing was just adding another straw onto his back.

                “Fine,” His teeth were so clenched together that he thought they might break. “I’ll do lookout with Ray.”

                “Thank you,” It was obvious that this argument was far from being handled correctly, but a temporary solution was still a solution. “We’re having a team meeting at five today and then again at ten in the morning tomorrow. Be there.”

                The door slammed shut behind Geoff. Most likely unintentionally. But Gavin could feel it reverberate through his head. Bouncing off the parts of his brain that hurt the most. The headache was double what it was before, and Gavin had no intention of helping it. He sat his ass back at his desk and continued to work on what he apparently did best.

~*~

                _Matt had spoken into their ears once they exited the alleyway that the Vagabond and Michael had taken down the two hackers. Apparently the two didn’t put up much of a fight._

_Nine._

_Jack and Jeremy apparently were not far behind the bruiser, who was trying to target out Geoff. The bruiser wasn’t too smart. He followed Geoff, unaware that Geoff knew of his presence and that two of the Fakes were hot on his trail. It only took a few more minutes, and by the time Ray and Gavin had gotten to their car, the bruiser was down._

_Eight._

                Shaking his head, Gavin couldn’t help but rub at his dry and irritated eyes. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Maybe days. He didn’t know. All he knew was that nothing he was doing was getting through. No matter how hard he worked at it. No matter how many tricks or workarounds he pulled out of his sleeves, there was absolutely no information nearby the warehouse location of smart phones, or even non-smart phones. There were two conclusions he drew from this; One: That they had high security on their phones and knew how to protect themselves. Or Two: They didn’t use phones altogether. The latter seemed risky, as not having a direct means of modern communication could put allies in danger, and as spread out as the group seemed to be it would be unlikely that they used ranged-communication devices like walkie-talkies. But the idea that they had such high security on their phones was also throwing the Golden Boy for a loop.

                A groan escaped his throat as he buried his head in his hands. It was unintentional, and a bit loud, but he had no inkling of a care left in his body. Let people see his frustration. Let them see his efforts. But then again, if they saw all this fruitless work, would they be more inclined to doubt him?

                Vibration nearby him nearly startled him. But after a moment he realized that it was just a message from Geoff, telling him that their meeting would start soon. Begrudgingly, Gavin got up from his seat and made his way to the conference room, his steps sounding much heavier and meaner than they usually were.  

                No way he didn’t noticed the stares as he entered the room. He was late, because of course he was, however the lack of flack he got for it did surprise him. Usually he would be berated immediately, but everyone was quiet. The air thick and tense with everyone’s baited breath for what Geoff had to say.

                “Alright,” Geoff cleared his throat after a while. “So tomorrow night we’re going to attack this warehouse,” He used a pointer on the map, but Gavin didn’t really care to pay attention. “North of La Puerta. Infiltrators are Vagabond, Michael, and Jeremy. They’ll have go pros attached to their vests that Matt and Trevor will be monitoring from here, and the information they gather will be relayed to us as needed. Ray, Gavin; Jack will drop you two off about a block away from the warehouse. Scope out buildings and figures you see, but if things get too hairy in the building prepare for combat with any hostiles that escape.”

                Prepare. As if the three infiltrators wouldn’t completely annihilate everything inside the warehouse on sight. Gavin fought hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes. No way him and Ray were seeing any kind of action.

                The meeting droned on for a while after that, but there was no new information for Gavin. Nothing exciting that he had to do. He could feel his legs beneath the table begin to bounce up and down, and his hands start reaching for his itchy arms in order to scratch. He needed to go for a run. Shoot something at the range. Do something to release all the energy that crackled through him. Killing the people who threatened his life and his crew would’ve been a great release, but he definitely didn’t want to press the issue any more. Not when Geoff looked so stressed and everybody else looked either nervous or sorrowful.

                When the meeting let up, Gavin was the first out the door. His feet brought him on auto pilot to the armory, where he started cleaning out his golden pistol and getting ammunition and other gear together for a quick shooting session. He found himself wishing desperately for a drink of something.

                “Gav,” A low voice came from behind him. Then the sound of a heavy door shutting closed. “We need to talk.”

                He couldn’t help the audible sigh, nor could he help the roll of his eyes. He shook his head and continued to mess about with his pistol. “Can’t this wait until after we kill that crew?”

                “No, it really can’t.”

                “What do you want from me, Vagabond, huh?” Gavin turned his head slightly over his shoulder, but he was still unable to see Ryan behind him. After a second he turned back to his gun and, with shaking hands, tried his hardest to put the clip back into its place. “You want to talk about how you seem to think I can’t handle myself? How long have you thought that, huh?”

                It was quiet for a while, which made Gavin drop his gun onto the table and turn around. Ryan stood there, hands in his jacket pockets, looking through the eyeholes of the Vagabond mask with an unrecognizable expression on his face. His voice was so quiet, almost completely muffled behind his mask. “I don’t think that. I just want to keep you safe.”

                “I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m capable of keeping myself safe.”

                “I know,” The softness of his voice just rose Gavin’s blood pressure exponentially for some reason. It felt as though he was coddling Gavin. Like Ryan was talking to an unreasonable child. And sure, Gavin did feel a bit silly, getting so worked up over all of it. But after so much goddamn time of people doubting his skills, he knew that it was never going to end unless he himself took initiative. Better himself somehow. Ryan got up closer to Gavin, just an inch or so, to test the waters. Gavin didn’t move. “If it’s bothering you this much we can try to see if Geoff will sub out Jeremy or Michael.”

                “Wouldn’t be fair to them, would it?”

                “I guess not,” Ryan closed the distance between them, grabbing Gavin’s chin so softly. Instinctually, Gavin found himself wanting to press into the touch. Its softness and steadiness so incredibly tantalizing. Yet his pride overrode his need for comfort, and he turned his head slightly down and away from Ryan’s gaze. “But Gavin, I… I don’t want you to be this upset during the heist. It’s dangerous.”

                “So now you think I can’t be professional?” He scoffed, his eyes still on the floor.

                “No, that’s not-,”

                “I’ve been doing this for so long. This routine is so normal to me. Nothing’s different, but why is everyone treating me so differently?”

                Neither of them spoke for a minute. Gavin had his whole body leaning against the table behind him with his arms folded and eyes continually glued to the ground. Trying to make the distance between his and Ryan’s bodies as far as he could. He didn’t have time for this. This was time he could be using to shoot at the range or continue to scour cellular data around southern Los Santos. This wasn’t the time, nor the place, to be discussing things like that. So Gavin propped himself up, scooped his gun up off of the table, and pushed his way out of Ryan’s presence. But before he even got halfway across the room, he felt the other’s strong grip on his bicep, holding him in his place.

                “Gavin,”

                “We both need to be doing something constructive,” He hissed, bringing his face closer to Ryan’s. But when he tried to shake out of the other’s grip, the fingers around his arm only tightened.

                “Talking is const-,”

                “Hey,” A voice came from the door that had apparently opened silently while the two were talking. Ray was stood there, looking at the two with wide eyes and his hand near his gun. Though he didn’t draw the weapon, he was looking between Gavin and Ryan like a fight was about to break out any moment. “Everything okay?”

                Upon seeing Ray, Ryan released his grip on Gavin’s arm and turned his head away from the Brit. Gavin laughed, angry and sarcastic like, at the whole situation. “Just great, Ray.”

                Then he pushed past the both of them and left the armory.

~*~

                No matter how hard he breathed, or concentrated, or focused his line of sight right down the sights of his pistol, he couldn’t hit the fucking target. Bam. Too far to the left. Bam. Too high up. The recoil of his pistol was beginning to make his elbows and shoulders sore. And the headphones that he wore to block out the sound of his gun were digging in too tight on the shells of his ears. He missed another shot.

                Around him, he could see the lampposts start to flick on one after another, illuminating the shipping yard. He didn’t even realize how late it was. That the moon was already up in the sky, taking the place of the sun that had long since left him.

                He attributed his missed shots to a few outside forces; The breath that came out of him every so often was a foggy cloud. His body temperature much higher than the cold night air. His stinging ears from the tightness of the headphones. The one flickering lamp a few yards away that had a bulb that was obviously on its last leg. It flicked on and off, on and off, and Gavin’s eyes couldn’t help but glance to it every single time.

                With a frustrated groan he slammed his pistol onto the table in front of him and then ripped his headphones off, chucking them somewhere nearby. The amount of pent up anger inside of him was honestly a bit scary. He was never one to get angry, nor was he one to physically lash out when he did find himself mad. But all he felt like doing at that moment was destroying the entire fucking lot out of pure rage.

                Then a bag was set onto the table beside him, and before he could properly examine it or where it came from, a voice chimed out from his left. “You know, the only other time I’ve seen you this angry was when Michael sunk our boat a few years back.”

                Jack. Her voice was so soft. Cautious, and yet so welcoming to Gavin. He always admired her deeper voice. Its bass able to vibrate in Gavin’s chest. It was calming, somehow. It brought him back to when he first joined the crew and Jack would talk with him for hours, trying her hardest to break open the shell of the silly little golden boy she and Geoff had found.

                Gavin sunk back against the wall of a shipping crate behind him. He felt a laugh escape him at the memory of being out at sea with Jack. “I just couldn’t believe he’d strand us so far from shore.”

                “I’m still surprised the explosion didn’t kill us.” She laughed with him.

                Gavin could hear the crinkling of a paper bag and then suddenly Jack was down on his level, handing him a fast food bag. With a small thank you he took it from her and started to immediately eat its contents. He didn’t necessarily care what it was. He was starving, and didn’t even realize it until that moment. Apparently he was cold too, because not even a second after he started taking bites of a burrito Jack’s jacket was around his shoulders. The tremors that had shaken his body stopped, but he didn’t even know when they had started. Another quiet thank you escaped his lips. Much quieter than the first.

                “Don’t thank me,” She brought herself closer to Gavin. “I just didn’t want you to pass out from not eating. Or the cold. Hypothermia wouldn’t help the mission, you know.”

                The small smile that had been on his face sunk then. Their mission was the next day. The chance to take down the stupid little gang that had threatened them was nearly there. But Gavin wouldn’t even be part of the action.

                “I know how upset you are,” Jack’s voice was a beacon in the dark for Gavin. Subconsciously he moved towards her, leaning his body weight against her. Her soft and gentle hand came up to Gavin’s shoulder and held lightly. “Hell, I’d be just as upset if something like that happened to me. You’re allowed to react, Gavin. It’s the body’s natural defense against stress and danger.”

                After a beat, Jack spoke again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

                Very subtly, and very solemnly, Gavin shook his head no. He expected Jack to push him to talk, to try some of her motherly ways. But instead she just nodded, brought out her phone, and offered an ear bud to Gavin. As the quiet music filled his ear and disrupted the silent night air, he could feel his eyes start to drift shut. Despite how it was definitely below freezing cold around him, it was the warmest Gavin had felt in a while.

~*~

                He had to call Geoff to tell him that he could start the meeting without him. Waking up late was something that he was entirely used to, and he wasn’t surprised when he opened his weary eyes and glanced at his alarm clock only to see that it was half an hour before he was needed at the warehouse for the conference. But he could also physically feel how low on energy his body was. No way he would ever be able to pick himself up out of bed and get ready in time to get to the warehouse. Not to mention the drive time would already make him late. So calling Geoff and telling him that he wouldn’t be there was better than nothing. With an affirmation that he’d be by the warehouse later and get filled in on what he needed to do (not like he needed it; he already knew his role in the mission), Geoff told him to at least start getting himself ready. His voice sounded like he wanted to scold Gavin, and on any other day he wouldn’t have even hesitated to, but they both knew that scolding wouldn’t get them anywhere.

                It was still another half hour before he even thought about rolling out of bed. His limbs were still sore from the workout the few days prior, and he could feel something of a sickness starting to form in his chest and throat, which he desperately tried to will away. Perhaps sitting out in the cold, dark, January night with Jack wasn’t the best idea. But it was soothing with her. Like for a moment there things weren’t falling apart around them. Anxiety filled him, though. It was back and biting at his insides like a storm. A hurricane in his brain that didn’t let up.

                Weighed down by the throbbing muscles beneath his skin, Gavin had to try his hardest not to just collapse on the ground into a pitiful mess on his way to the bathroom. It was by a sheer miracle that he actually made it to his bathroom. The physical toll that all the stress was taking on him was quite apparent; the bags under his eyes were somehow more noticeable than usual, his skin seemed paler than usual, he couldn’t remember the last time he properly washed his hair, and the unkempt state of his beard definitely wasn’t doing him any favors. So with a sigh, Gavin turned on his shower and did his best to clean up. But the weight of his limbs continued to bring him down to a point where it felt like he was either going to turn to stone where he stood or melt into a puddle and be washed away down his shower drain. But somehow he finished his shower. Looking back he supposed that if he had to select a specific part in that day where he felt the least terrible, it would be right as he got out of the shower.

                His phone buzzed beside him, revealing a flurry of missed texts and calls from the other Fakes. Most coming from Geoff, voicing his concern about the lad. Jack obviously had sent a few messages, asking if Gavin needed or wanted a ride to the lot. Even Ray had sent him a message, but knowing him it was probably just a meme. He was even worse at talking about feelings than Ryan.

                Speak of the devil.

                As he was checking his messages the Vagabond’s name lit up his screen, making his phone buzz wildly in his palm. The sinking feeling in his stomach he got when he looked at the name was uncharacteristic; usually he’d jump at the chance to talk to Ryan. But he was still mad. Still unsure on if Ryan really thought so lowly of him. Though his finger still pressed the green accept button to its own accord and sure enough Gavin was trying to suppress a frustrated sigh as he said hello into his phone.

                “Gav,” Ryan’s voice sounded surprisingly relieved that Gavin actually picked up. A twang of guilt hit Gavin’s chest, but he tried his best to ignore it as he walked through his apartment and into his kitchen. “Hey.”

                “Hi,” He let go of the phone with his hand, instead keeping it between his shoulder and ear while he looked through his fridge for something to eat. Though Gavin already knew that he wasn’t going to eat anything. His guts was too upset, too thoroughly tied into a knot to stomach anything. He looked anyway. “How was the meeting?”

                “Fine. Geoff said you slept in.”

                “I did,” He was slightly shocked at how difficult it was to keep his venom in check. Part of him knew that his feelings were justified. But another part of him, the part that was currently at the forefront of his brain, was telling him that Ryan didn’t deserve this. Which, okay, maybe he didn’t. But there was still a prick in Gavin’s side and he wasn’t about to let go of it just yet. “I’m about to head to the lot now, though.”

                “Well, if you’re not feeling well I can come pick you up,” Gavin could faintly hear the sound of gunshots from the other line. But they were becoming more faint as the seconds ticked on. “Jack said she drove you home last night.”

                After slamming the fridge door, Gavin decided that it would be best to just look for his shoes and head out. No matter how much his stomach protested. Though, as he went to his room and put on his shoes, he found himself unintentionally talking to Ryan about how nice Jack was the night before. And Ryan just listened for those few brief moments. But Gavin caught himself and laughed quietly. Perhaps even bitterly. He rolled his eyes and stood up from the side of his bed. “You’ve probably got stuff to do.”

                It was then, pretty much on cue, that a voice was heard through Ryan’s end. Someone calling him over. Gavin assumed it was Michael, based on how loud the voice sounded. He could then hear a sigh from Ryan and suddenly he found himself very cold in his apartment. But instead of focusing on that, he got himself up, swooped up his car keys, and was out the door. “Yeah,” He heard the other say as he got into the elevator. “I’ll see you here though, alright?”

                “Alright. Bye, Ry-,” He cut himself off and nearly bit his tongue. A frustrated groan escaped him. “Sorry, Vagabond. I’ll see you later.”

                He could tell that Ryan was about to say something, but he quickly ended the call before he could. The heat that filled his cheeks made the rest of his body feel even colder, and all he could do was wonder to himself why he was finding it more and more difficult to not call Ryan by his name.

~*~

                “Geoff said we’ll need to be stationed further back because they’re not sure of patrols around the warehouse as of right now,” Ray filled him in as Gavin got all of his shit together. It was still a few hours before the heist. But Gavin fiddled about with his computer equipment over and over, double and triple and quadruple checking that everything was in order. He had to admit that most of what Ray was saying was going in one ear and out the other, but he tried his hardest to pay attention.

                “Why am I not just stationed in the van the whole time?”

                “Geoff said that we gotta patrol the perimeter before you can look at cameras and I can go and snipe. Believe me, I hate this too, Vav.”

                “It seems like we’re always picked for the boring jobs. Haven’t you noticed that, Ray?”

                The other just shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets and leaning fully against the van that Gavin was carefully setting equipment into. “I mean sometimes. At least we’re not on bitch duty.”

                Gavin couldn’t help but chuckle at that one. He’d never been one for radio work. Talking to the crew and giving information during the height of the mission. He much preferred to be out in the action rather than behind a screen and ear piece. “Matt and Trev seem to enjoy the work well enough.”

                “Yeah, ‘cause they’re not gettin’ shot at.”

                “But, I mean, wouldn’t you rather be in the action? How awesome would it be to just go into that warehouse and light them all up?”

                It was quiet for a second, and Gavin glanced over his shoulder to see Ray giving him a questioning glance. But his relaxed position never shifted. He shrugged once more and moved his eyes from Gavin to the ground. “I think that my skills are better from a distance. I actually… I dunno. I guess if I’m in a car I don’t mind being close. But close combat just… Isn’t my forté. Don’t like being exposed.”

                The boot-up screen was taking its time, but Gavin kept his eyes glued to the monitor. He didn’t even realize that his fingers were tapping until it was the only thing that was sounding off in the silence between he and Ray. He forced himself to stop tapping his fingers, but was then met with Ray clearing his throat.

                “So, that was crazy,” Gavin glanced back to see Ray actually looking at him. He had an inkling of what Ray was alluding to, but he still rose an eyebrow at him, to which Ray shrugged and looked away once more. “With the Vagabond a few days ago. Who woulda guessed that crazy son of a bitch could actually speak, huh?”

                “Yeah that was,” He stopped himself at the look that Ray was giving him. Not quite sympathy. Not quite pity. A plea, perhaps, at the truth? Gavin sighed and shook his head. “What did Michael tell you?”

                “Not much,” Gavin groaned and put his head in his hands. Just a few days ago, Ryan and he had their secret on lock. Nobody knew. Nobody knew about them, or what Ryan sounded like, or anything that they’d worked so hard to keep quiet. Their walls were breaking. Gavin wasn’t sure if it was a good thing, at least not quite yet. Ray spoke back up once he saw Gavin’s frustration. “He just said that you two were close. But he said it, like, pretty sarcastically. So I wasn’t sure.”

                Gavin could pretty much imagine exactly how Michael had said it. He’d laugh if he weren’t so upset. “He hasn’t spoken to me since yesterday.”

                “He did seem pretty upset, but he’s got a quick temper. He can’t stay mad forever.”

                A chime at his computer caught his attention, and although it wasn’t anything important, he decided that whatever was on his screen was more desirable than what Ray had to say. Luckily, the other man stopped talking. He was never one to press matters that never involved him, nor was he one to insert himself into situations that involved heavy emotion or feelings. Gavin appreciated that more than he could ever say. He didn’t mind sitting in a comfortable silence; the only noise being the clack of his keyboard or click of the mouse every once in a while. That is, until Geoff came over to the pair of them and started to speak. Gavin didn’t look at him. Just continued to type away at his keyboard.

                “Once it gets dark we’re heading out. You have everything there, Gav?”

                “Yeah.”

                Ray and Geoff spoke for a minute then, mostly about things that didn’t concern Gavin. Though their voices were starting to irritate him, especially because he was actually trying to start up a few of the surveillance hacks that they needed for the mission. He gave them another minute before fully getting up, saying that he’d forgotten his VPN router, and heading for the main building.

                Laughter filled his ears as he got closer to the building. He turned his head and looked out towards the front of the lot, only to see Michael and Jeremy laughing while getting guns together in a duffel bag. He couldn’t hear their exact words. But the smiles on their faces and their grips around their guns spoke volumes.

                That should’ve been him.

                He could feel his anger start to rise again. But he had to keep it in check.

                Why didn’t they send him? Why didn’t they think he could do it?

                He was never one to get very angry. Life was too short o hold grudges or to let oneself get caught up in things that didn’t matter. But these people mattered. They were his family. He relied on them for safety, community, every little fine detail in his life. Was it returned? Did they see him as an equal? Or a liability? He didn’t like crying. He’d only ever cried when he had panic attacks, and even then it was involuntary. But the sting of tears felt fresh in his eyes, tears purely made from frustration. His hands vibrated with nervous energy, his whole body felt extra heated, his senses were hyperaware of every little thing around him.

                His feet carried him to the computer room without him even realizing. Everything seemed so bright in there. He just needed a minute.

                He closed the door behind him and started to take deep breaths. Yet he didn’t stop his work. He grabbed the VPN router from its place near his desk and took another breath. Chest tight. Hands shaking. His whole self still swimming in a pool of anger and hurt. But this would only last a short time. After this mission, once these people were dead, then things would settle out. Something in Gavin’s gut twisted, but his mind was in too many places at once to care.

~*~

                Jack had dropped them off, as planned, a block away from the warehouse. They were to patrol the perimeter and look for suspicious figures, as well as inform Matt on their positions and the positions of people within and around the warehouse that they could see. Geoff had assured them that this was necessary.

                And yet, the pair didn’t see jack shit.

                They’d been walking around for half an hour before Gavin realized that they’d be out for much, much longer. He shivered to himself, silently cursing himself for not bringing a fucking jacket, even though it was mid-January and he knew he was going to be outside. Though, granted, he thought that perhaps the job on his end would last a few minutes, he’d walk around, then retreat back to his van for surveillance work. What a load of shit. He held his gun close, somewhat thankful that he was at least allowed to take one of the bigger guns with him. Not like he’d use it. With a sigh, he stopped against one of the walls and waited for Ray to finish updating Matt on their position.

                “Tell me again why we couldn’t bring our phones,” He huffed.

                “Beats me. I could be playing Heroes right now.”

                As Ray droned on about new summons in whatever mobile game he picked up, Gavin noticed that the further the two got from the street, the more eerie the back allies became. The walls and corners were growing close between them, and it seemed so incredibly cold where they were. It smelled like shit, something which Gavin already expected but still hated with all his being. He hated downtown. Its industrial air making it difficult to breathe and the shady alleyways always sent a chill up his spine. He’d been mugged more than a handful of times down these streets.

                Matt had chimed in their ears that the infiltrators were about to make first contact in the warehouse, and that the two should keep their eyes open. The look on Gavin’s face must’ve immediately given away his annoyance, because Ray visibly cringed when he looked to the Brit on his right.

                “I know you wanted to be on the infiltrators, Gav,” Ray held his gun close to him as they rounded another corner. “But there’s not much we can do now.”

                “Guess not.” Gavin grumbled.

                The two stopped walking for a moment, as Ray had to tie his shoe. But something to Gavin’s right caught his attention.

                Graffiti on the side of a brick building. It looked nice, too. Not like most of the unrecognizable and illegible graffiti that was littered around Los Santos. But he also immediately recognized it. It had been unavoidable the past few months, that insignia.

                Gavin tilted his head as he looked at it, causing Ray to come up next to him and look at it as well. It was a strange emblem. A cow’s head with a butcher knife beneath it. It did fit the name of their gang, but something about it all made Gavin’s stomach churn. “Cow Chop,” He practically spat out. “Jesus.”

                “It’s a bit on the nose,” Ray tilted his head. “At least with ours there’s like symbolism or some shit.”

                Gavin couldn’t hide the look of disgust that overcame his face when he viewed the graffiti. “It’s bloody garish is what it is.”

                After a beat, a voice came from their left. “It’s only garish to the rich kids,”

                Quickly, Ray and Gavin both flashed their guns to the left, aiming at a man at the end of the alleyway. They were too far away, and it was much too dark, but Gavin could tell that he was big, bearded, and also visibly unimpressed by the two. He let out a chuckle and ducked his head a bit. Almost mockingly so. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

                Then Gavin felt the clear tip of a gun pressed against the back of his head. He cursed himself silently. Of course this was a fucking trap. He was blind not to recognize it before. But there was no time to contact Matt or the rest of the crew. The barrel of the gun that pressed into the back of his head was too harsh. Too present. The pair were cornered animals who walked just directly into the hunters bear trap. Slowly he brought his hands up in a clear sign of defeat and then gradually, while maintaining eye contact with the bearded man, lowered his gun to the ground. He glanced quickly out of the corner of his eye at Ray and noticed the other man doing the same.

                “Now that we’re on the same page, I think it’s time we all had a chat,” He then looked around for a moment and turned back to the Fakes. “But maybe somewhere more private.”

                Then Gavin felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and his vision started to slowly collapse around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the gang reveal surprising? Who expected it? Also, how will everyone react to our missing boys??? Find out next time, bitches.


	4. CHAPTER 4 - RYAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Is anybody reading this? Who cares. I like writing this story. I love this one. Next chapter is... A lot. But this chapter was a lot of difficult memories. I hope those of you reading enjoy.

                Something bubbled in his gut. There was something wrong. Worst case scenario, they were walking right into a trap and will be killed immediately. Best case scenario… Well, Ryan was still trying to think of the best case scenario.

                Completely silent during the car ride. And not just him, but Jeremy and Michael as well. From his position in the back seat he could see Jeremy’s nervous tapping on the wheel and Michael’s constant fiddling with his gun. It was starting to stress Ryan out as well, but he knew that in just a short time, it’d all be over. Things would return to normal. They’d go back to stealing from rich people and taking police on fast-paced pursuits. They just had to get through this first.

                He actually liked the feeling of the armor tight around his body. Constricting in a way but it was a welcomed pressure. Still able to move freely, and with the extra sense of security it was stupid to ditch it for most missions. Though the go pro equipment was a bit much. It wasn’t the first mission they’d used the camera feeds, but it was the first time Ryan himself had to wear one. Somehow, and he couldn’t quite place his finger on why exactly, but the cameras made it feel more real. Made him more nervous. Maybe it was the fact that in the back of his mind he knew that others would be watching his feed, and maybe even judging him and his tactics.

                Whatever. He checked his shotgun for what must have been the twentieth time since he’d gotten in the car before they finally pulled to a slow stop a building or two away from the warehouse. Jeremy had said to Trevor that the two were ready, and with a few more checks of weapons and communication relay devices, they were out of the car and storming into the warehouse.

                The first thing they were met with was darkness.

                Ryan noticed the clear smell of musty, stuffy air. And as Jeremy clicked on a flashlight his eyes glanced around the room.

                Something was fucking wrong. And not in the “this is an obvious trap” type of way, but rather a “some information must have been wrong” type of way.

                The particles and speckles of dust that danced in the light of Jeremy’s flashlight were one thing, but as Ryan glanced to his feet and noticed the clear layers of dust they were leaving footprints in, he knew that they were the only ones there. That no one else had been in the building for a while. It was also completely empty, save a few old boxes littered here and there. Right as the three put their guns down slightly, they heard Trevor in their ears.

                “Something’s wrong,”

                “Yeah, no shit,” Michael hissed, one hand letting go of his rifle in order to press against his ear piece hard. “What the fuck is going on.”

                In the distance, Jeremy’s voice rang out. Him giving a soft “Hello? Anyone there?” into the building, making sure that they were really alone. Though Ryan rolled his eyes at that. If the gang didn’t want to come out before, they’d surely want to come out after Jeremy asked.

                “No, no,” Trevor’s voice seemed almost frantic. “Not the warehouse. Okay, well, that’s weird too there should definitely be something there,”

                “Get on with it,”

                “Brownman and Golden Boy, their ear pieces are off.”

                A rock sunk in Ryan’s stomach. He moved his body into Michael’s view and leaned closer to him, eyes wide and hands gripping his gun tighter. He had no idea how, but Michael knew what he meant.

                “What the fuck do you mean, Treyco?”

                “Guys, you need to get out of there and search the whole block for them. But stay together and stay on high alert. And keep your fucking go pros on. I don’t know what’s happening.”

                It was only a second before they were out the door and running through the alleys all around them. Footsteps were the only sounds that echoed around them, but it was all their own. No other noise, not even the sound of cars or sirens, sounded off around them. But for Ryan, he could definitely hear his own heartbeat much too loud in his head.

                So many twists and turns. So many dark back alleys. The only thing that lit their path was the shaking flashlight that Jeremy held up as they ran. He hoped that the other two were keeping track of where they were going, because Lord knows Ryan wasn’t. Frantically his eyes wandered all around them as they ran, hoping desperately to see any sign of the pair that were on lookout duty.

                There was something almost surreal about the situation. Like any second Ryan expected them to turn a corner only to see one of two things: Either Gavin standing with a smug grin on his face, holding his ear piece in his hand and already giggling about the prank he had pulled, or the corpse of the only person he’d ever cared about, dead and cold and potentially headless. But neither of those things were real.

                They’d turned a corner and were about to keep running before Jeremy stopped them both, putting a hand to Michael’s chest. A circle of light that came from the flashlight focused in on a very specific spot about halfway into that alley. From his distance away, Ryan couldn’t exactly make out what he was pointing at. Though instead of rushing forward and seeing, he whipped around behind them and had his gun at the ready. No fucking way anybody was getting the jump on them. He kept his position even as he heard Michael and Little J step forward to investigate.

                “What…” Michael’s voice was quiet.

                “Shit,” Jeremy’s voice was even quieter. “Vagabond…”

                Part of him didn’t want to look. Part of him hoped that this was all a prank. That it wasn’t real. That they’d all come out from hiding and laugh at him for being so naïve. That Gavin would jump up from behind and encircle Ryan in a tight, warm hug.

                But as he turned he could see two objects in either of Jeremy’s hands. In his left, a pair of glasses that Ryan immediately recognized. And in the other, a ring that he just as easily identified. Two of Ray and Gavin’s belongings that they were definitely wearing when they went out.

                “Holy shit,” Trevor’s voice broke them all out of their trance. “Guys, that’s not good. You gotta get back here now. We need to reconvene.”

                Without finding the pair first? Ryan shook his head, holding his gun more firmly against his person. The lads both caught on to his defensive stance and at least Michael was on board with him. “We’re not going anywhere without finding them.”

                “Chances are they’re long gone. They’re probably being held for ransom. If the other crew contacts us, we need to all be here. Plus, Kingpin and Beardo are still in the dark. Get into your car and come back now; that’s an order.”

                Ryan stepped forward, hesitantly, and took the ring out of Jeremy’s hand. He thought for a moment that he saw the littler man flinch, but he also didn’t really care. The smooth metal and shining gold looked so empty in his hand. So small. He pocketed the ring and began to walk back to their car, not really caring if Jeremy and Michael were following him or not.

~*~

                By the time they had all gathered back to the warehouse, it was already about two in the morning. While the others had been so focused on catching Geoff and Jack up, Ryan busied himself with a handful of maps of Los Santos that had been tucked away in Geoff’s office somewhere, detailing all the past hits on gangs and criminal activities that they’d managed to squander in the many years prior to this. One gang, even the remnants of a gang, must know something about these people. Gangs don’t just pop up out of nowhere, especially not equipped with all of the skills and equipment that these people apparently had at their disposal. There had to be something they were missing.

                Yet he was also semi-listening in on what they were saying. His mind was too focused on everything all at once. The information that entered his mind was a lot, and the past half hour did not o a lot to help him, as not knowing if his partner was still alive was definitely flaying his mind in a way that he never thought possible. Never before had he been so flustered. So scattered. So horribly, terribly, entirely scared.

                “Does anybody here have any experience with the type of equipment Gavin uses?”

                The group was silent for a minute before a deep voice cut in. “Trevor and I have some experience. Gavin showed us a thing or two. But we can’t do even a quarter of the things he can when it comes to hacking.”

                “But you know the basics?”

                “I guess.”

                Ryan turned in his chair and looked at the group now. They were all tense. A few of them were even visibly shaking.

                “That’ll have to do,” Geoff shook his head, turning to Jack. “You still have his equipment in the back of the van?” After a weary nod from her, Geoff turned his attention to Jeremy. “Do you think you remember the alley that you found those things in?” A nod from Jeremy. “Alright. Jeremy, go with Jack and show her where it is. Matt, go with them and use the equipment to hack into local surveillance. A security camera, a traffic camera, anything. There has to be something there.”

                “What’re we gonna do?” Michael stepped up, his arms folded and tone very much aggressive. Ryan felt like he and the lad were on very similar pages.

                Geoff seemingly ignored Michael’s question, instead turning to Trevor. “Trevor, you stay here and keep contact with those three. I’m gonna be in my office, hopefully making calls to find out more about these fuckin’ lunatics,” After a second of not speaking, Ryan stood up from his chair, wordlessly repeating Michael’s earlier question by walking up beside the lad and staring Geoff down. Geoff couldn’t ignore either of them at that point. He sighed and rolled his eyes at the look of them, standing side by side. The meanest bruises anybody had ever seen. “You two aren’t doin’ jack shit. You both need to go home and get some rest. If something happens we need you two at the top of your game.”

                “No fucking way I’m sitting back and-,”

                “You’re gonna do as I say, Michael! We can’t afford to lose any more people!”

                “What we need to do is not sit on our asses and wait for them to come to us!”

                The pair yelled for another few seconds before Ryan’s blood finally boiled over. He could feel his fists tighten and teeth grit. The shakes that had overtaken his body even more apparent now. “They could be fucking dead for all we know and what are we doing?! Huh?! Ripping out each other’s throats over meaningless bullshit?!”

                “You know, I’m really starting to hate your decision to talk.” Geoff hissed.

                But before Ryan could react to that, Jack had stepped between them, physically pushing Geoff away and lowering her voice to the three of them. “Stop it. This isn’t helping. Geoff, you need to go get some fucking sleep with the rest of them. Working in shifts will be better for all of us,” At Ryan and Michael’s simultaneous huffs, Jack turned to face the both of them. “I promise you that the second we get new intel on the pair you’ll be alerted. But the two of you aren’t much help to them if you’re fucking passed out from exhaustion. That’ll really be signing their death warrant.”

                Geoff shook his head, the anger that had blasted out before lessening somewhat. Then, with a small eye roll and rub of his face, he looked to Michael and Ryan. The tiredness and anxiety ever apparent on his face. And Ryan was sure that under his mask he must’ve looked incredibly similar. “She’s right. We’ll work in rounds. Trevor, do you think that one guy you talked about will be able to fill in for you on the opposite rotation?”

                The pair talked for a second then, but Ryan had long since checked out. He didn’t want to sit back. He didn’t want to go to sleep. He didn’t want to go home to his empty, cold home because he knew that once he got there there’d be no stopping the stream of endless thoughts. A distraction was desperately needed. A lead was desperately wanted. He craved anything that could bring him close to getting Gavin back, safe and sound.

                Just as he was about to turn around and gather up all the maps that he had compiled, a hand grasped his. He glanced up to see Jack boring into his eyes through the slots in his mask. She seemed just as exhausted as the rest of them, maybe even more so. The worry lines on her forehead more prominent than usual, as well as the crows feet by her eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. I don’t know where you live, but I know that the minute you go out that door you’re not gonna go home. I’m not stupid, Vagabond. You’re going with Geoff back to the penthouse and sleeping there.”

                At the slow shake of his head, Jack just clicked her tongue and smiled slightly, a low chuckle moving through her chest and throat. “Oh, it’s not a choice.”

~*~

                How long did the city stay up? Did no one ever go to sleep? Neon lights and the rush of traffic and the constant barrage of noise were so excessive to Ryan. He hated downtown. He hated that even at nearly three in the morning people were still roaming the streets, still driving around, still up and about. Back in Georgia, this was a time for pondering. For cowering. The witching hour. A thought flashed in his mind of himself back there, as a child, so scared under his blankets at the thought of the things that lurked in the dark outside of his window.

                He was the thing that lurked in the dark now.

                “You gonna brood forever?” Geoff called out from the driver seat. At Ryan’s silence, his eyes flicked over to the passenger seat to see Ryan fiddling with his pocket knife. Call it a tick. “Listen, we’re gonna find ‘em. No way they’re dead.”

                “You can’t know that.” Ryan’s voice was so quiet. He was surprised that his words got out through the mask.

                “They probably want something in return for Ray and Gavin. If they just wanted them dead they’d’ve killed ‘em back at the alley.”

                “They’re unpredictable, Geoff.”

                The older man hummed, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “Yeah. They are. But I don’t doubt for a second that we’ll find them. Or that they’ll at least escape before they die.”

                The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, but Ryan was a bit grateful for that. Talking in front of the crew was still incredibly uncomfortable. It was at least easier with just Geoff, but he didn’t want to get too casual with the idea of speaking in front of all of them. Not yet, at least.

                As they got into the penthouse, Geoff had already taken off his blazer and tie and was throwing them onto the couch to their left. “I’m gonna go sleep on my couch. You know where the guestroom is. Get some sleep.”

                And as uncomfortable as Ryan was, he knew that the tired energy surrounding him would soon come crashing down, regardless of if he wanted it to or not. Just a few hours. He’d get a few hours of sleep and then he’d go back to reviewing past gangs and territories. There had to be something that they were missing.

                Part of him hesitated taking his mask off. But the fact that he could both draw the curtains and lock the door did made him feel at least the slightest bit better. The fact that he was a light sleeper also helped. The gun under his pillow was perhaps an unnecessary precaution, but he felt as though it’d at least be a good way to threaten a crew member if they managed to pick past the lock and see his face.

                After a good hour or so of laying in the bed and looking at the ceiling, going over again and again in his mind the events of the day, he finally drifted off into a rather uncomfortable sleep.

~*~

_He and Gavin were welcomed to his warm and cozy home after a long day of running errands in the cold December air. They each had bags of things and trinkets, their goals of the day to wrap them up as gifts for the other crew members. Christmas was rapidly approaching, and this was the first time in many, many years that Ryan actually thought about celebrating it. It just seemed so easy. The easiest option; to comply and go to the mall and other little shops with Gavin and watch as the other man lit up at all the decorations and Christmas festivities. But Gavin had been rather cheeky since their trip to Home Depot, and Ryan finally asked what was up with him. The Brit just giggled, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and told him to close his eyes while he ran back to the car. After raising an eyebrow and being unable to hide his sideways grin, he complied and covered his eyes with his hands._

_It was a few minutes before Gavin came back into the house, and Ryan heard a very heavy and metallic thump on the counter nearby, only raising his curiosity even more._

_“Okay,” His giggles came through his voice so much, Ryan could clearly see his beaming grin even with his eyes covered. “You can look.”_

_Once his eyes opened, he saw two big buckets of paint sitting on his counter. He couldn’t hold back his laughter when he walked up close and read the name on the can. “Rapture red?”_

_Gavin groaned and took Ryan’s arm in his own, leading him to the far wall of the living room. “I think it would look nice on this wall! Don’t you, Ry?”_

_“Just that one?”_

_“It’s called an accent wall, geez. Don’t you know anything about interior design?” His laugh resonated deep in Ryan’s chest. No, he didn’t know a lot about interior design. But he didn’t really care. Gavin’s genuine smile and his tight hold on Ryan’s arm was so dizzying to him. He didn’t care what color the wall was. He’d paint the whole house for Gavin._

_They spent the next little while moving furniture out of the way and lining the edges of the walls with masking tape, and Gavin assured Ryan that the tarp was covering all the carpet that it needed to. He knew how to paint the wall, but he didn’t protest when Gavin took his hand with his own and showed him how to properly paint the wall, as to not leave stroke marks behind. Eventually, as Ryan got a good chunk of the wall done with Gavin’s help, the younger man turned his attention to his phone and started blasting Christmas music loud in the room._

_“We’ve got to get you a tree, too, Ry! And some stockings…” The lad trailed on, talking nonsense about Christmas. To be honest, Ryan hadn’t celebrated Christmas since he was a kid. Nor did he care to. But the joy and sparkle so apparent in Gavin’s eyes was absolutely contagious, and soon Ryan found himself humming along to the silly music that flowed from Gavin’s phone. He’d never felt so warm. So totally and entirely in love. His entire soul and being at that moment being encircled around the man beside him. The man that sung, even though he wasn’t great at it, because it was fun and it was the holidays and that was, after all, the happiest time of the year._

_Slowly, though, the music started to shift. A record slowing to a stop, but it never truly stopped. It became much too downtempo and warped, the happy melody melting into a sinister and eerie tune. And Gavin’s singing stopped as well. But it was like being trapped in molasses with how slow Ryan’s body moved. Turning his head was a much bigger physical task than it should’ve been. But really, he didn’t know if he wanted to look anyway._

_His paint brush clattered to the floor when he finally saw what was beside him._

_Gavin, still wearing the stupid sweater that he had been, but blood caked the front of it. All gushing from the stump neck that had exposed meat and bone at the end of it. Where was his head? Why was everything spinning?_

_Why did you let him die?_

_Gavin’s body started to wobble and sway, the bone from his spinal cord shifting and the blood that gushed out like a waterfall still pouring endlessly. Soon Ryan found himself swaying too. Was he trying to get away from or closer to Gavin’s decapitated being? He wasn’t sure. But the air, which was as thick as tar, still enveloped his body and soon he was falling through the bloodied floor, sinking lower and lower and the blood entered his lungs and it was burning and no way he could breathe past it-_

The deep, shaky breath of air that Ryan took in was so ear-piercing in the quiet room that he thought his ear drums would burst from the intensity. For a moment he thought that someone was physically beating against his chest, but as one of his hands came to swiftly grasp at his left pectoral, he realized that, oh, it was just his heart thumping out of his chest.

                Why? Why would his brain turn such a happy memory, a memory so recent and clear in his mind, into something so vile? Evil and disgusting and ever so debilitating? Was it really his fault that Gavin was taken? If Gavin had gone with the infiltrators, Ryan would be in his place. But, then again, would Ryan had been more vigilant? Would he have fought off whoever was attacking them? Surely Gavin tried his hardest. He could feel the twists in his stomach get tighter. If Gavin was really dead…

                No.

                Ryan swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed at his face before checking the clock. Little past eight o’ clock. Quickly he put his mask, jacket, and boots back on before unlocking his room and moving into the main room. Unsurprisingly, Geoff was already out there, drinking coffee and looking at his phone. At Ryan’s presence he looked up and regarded him, but didn’t speak. It seemed like he was going to, though. As Ryan sat on the sofa and sent a quick message to Jack asking when she’d be able to bring him up to speed, he could hear Geoff in the kitchen shift and move. A glance over confirmed how restless the older man was, moving from foot to foot as he watched Ryan with a close eye.

                “I’m nervous,” The words came out fast. And after they did Geoff worried his lower lip between his teeth. “Do you want coffee?”

                Ryan just shook his head and looked back down to his phone, wondering why Jack was taking so long to answer him. After a moment Ryan could hear the tell-tale sound of a coffee maker brewing another pot, and before he could even stop himself to think the words came tumbling out of his mouth.

                “I think it’s my fault.”

                “What?”

                Silence filled the air for a moment then. Hesitantly Ryan brought his gaze up to meet Geoff’s, only to see the other man patiently waiting for more explanation.

                “If I woulda just left it alone, I mean, he would… He’d be here instead of me.”

                No other explanation required. Geoff finished his (presumably) first mug of coffee but continued to fiddle with the mug that remained clutched between his fingers. His head starting to shake no, and even through his beard and from his distance Ryan could see the clear frown apparent on Geoff’s worrisome face. “Nah,” The coffee maker beside him stopped its brewing and without a seconds hesitation Geoff was pouring himself another cup. “I don’t think that thinkin’ that way is gonna help anything. We gotta put our heads towards finding them. Not blaming one another.”

                He knew Geoff was right. Very few times Geoff was ever wrong. Still, the nagging worry in the back of his mind that refused to let go of the idea that Gavin would’ve been safe had it been Ryan on the lookout squad didn’t let up. And the nightmare that he had during the night still haunted him. Still projected such clear images into the backs of his eyelids that there was no escaping from. No relief.

                _Nothing really happened during the night,_ Jack messaged him after a while. _We didn’t find much, although Matt didn’t really know what he was doing. Not that I blame him. I’m heading home now though. I’ll message you later._

He stood then, walking over to the kitchen and nodding to Geoff. The other chugged the rest of his coffee and was out the door without a word.

~*~

                Spiraling was out of the question, at least until he could be by himself. The self-doubt and the anxiety and the knowledge that Gavin could very well die before Ryan ever got the chance to tell him that he loved him all consumed him and very nearly swallowed him up where he stood in the warehouse. And yet he remained stone. A statue of a man. Cold and without feelings or thoughts of his own, his only goals and ambitions to retrieve his long lost ray of golden sunshine. A heart for the tin man, perhaps?

                He was never one to cry openly, and the only time in the past decade or two he’d cried in front of another person was very briefly months ago when he was alone with Gavin on the rooftop. He’d never even cried in front of his wife. It was also not often he thought of her. Memories, faint ones, danced around thoughts every once in a while. But he no longer longed for her as he once did. He had sought his vengeance. He had grieved for those long, lonely years. He’d never stop loving her, and he’d never stop thinking of her, and it had been hard. Especially those first few years. Ryan never thought he’d heal. That his heart would forever be black and cold and broken, unable to love romantically or even entertain the thought of loving platonically. Yet, there he was. Surrounded by a crew that he trusted (which was also new to him) and in an actual relationship. Though, the two had never talked about what they were, exactly.

                There was a lot they had to talk about.

                Gunshots and knives never scared him. Alcohol and drugs never scared him. Murder and crime never scared him. But his hands sweat and his heartbeat picked up whenever he even thought about wanting to talk with Gavin about serious things. Perhaps it all boiled down to not wanting repeats of the past. Not wanting another dead lover on his hands. Or maybe, another voice sounded in his head, it was a fear of Gavin not reciprocating Ryan’s feelings. His intense feelings that clouded his usually concise and level-headed judgment.

                He needed to stop being so scared all the fucking time.

                Trust in others was something that didn’t come lightly to him, nor did he find himself wanting others to trust in him. But he’d been with the crew for so fucking long. These people, as loud and annoying and overbearing as they were, had become a family to him. Even if they themselves never realized it. Boy. He was in too fucking deep.

                Not really sure how it happened, he found himself in the conference room pouring over multiple territory maps and past interactions with other gangs, and he finally found a break. Honestly, he didn’t know how they didn’t see it before. But before he knew it he was texting the others and asking for them to meet him in the conference room. It had just been him, Geoff, Michael, and Trevor’s new recruit whose name Ryan did not remember. But that was enough. He’d fill the others in on the details later. He’d kicked the new recruit out of the room, though. Still too shaken in front of others to want to talk to new people.

                “What’s this about, then?” Geoff’s voice was strained, and he was nursing yet another cup of coffee. From the hours that they had been apart, Ryan was unsure of if this was his third cup of coffee, or perhaps thirtieth. Regardless, he cleared his throat and pinned up a map to the bulletin board behind him.

                “Past crew, ‘bout three or so years ago, ‘round those same parts. Called themselves the Creatures. There were lots of them, but their leaders were pushovers. Ran ‘em out without trouble. Remember?”

                The pair watching Ryan seemed to take a moment to recall, but eventually they were on board, nodding their heads and leaning closer to Ryan. Neither spoke. Just listened.

                “Don’t know how we missed it. They had fire starters with them, and were causing some major problems back then as well. I actually… When Michael and I found those two hackers a while back, I thought I had recognized one of them. Do you remember, Michael? Asian boy, bit scrawny? Didn’t say much at the meeting with the past gang?”

                “Oh!” Michael nearly jumped out of his chair. “That’s where I knew him from! I knew he looked familiar!”

                “I mean, in our defense, we thought we ran all of those guys out,” Geoff’s arms folded in his chair. “We were pretty clear at that meeting all those years ago. Either get out or we kill you.”

                “Well apparently a few of them didn’t heed our warning,” Ryan turned his head back around to the map on the bulletin board. “We can try to get information out of some Creature members, but I’m not sure if any remnants of that old crew remain. We’d have to check with local sources around town.”

                Geoff nodded his head carefully and stood up. “We can do that. It’s the only lead we’ve got, anyway.” After twisting his torso and cracking joints all the way up his spine, Geoff swiped his coffee up from the table and looked between the two crew members in front of him. “Come on. We can’t waste any more time.”

~*~

                _His legs were propped behind Ryan’s head as he  moved slickly inside of him. His name was a sweet song off Gavin’s tongue; so loud and so breathy, and at times so broken. And Gavin’s warm, wet heat pulled similar noises from Ryan’s throat. Never before had he been so easily intoxicated by another. The whole of Gavin’s being, his entire aura and presence, similar to a drug. Making his head dizzy and heart race, and all of the blood that rushed throughout his body pool in a very specific area. Everything was light and hot and Ryan for sure thought he would pass out had it not been for Gavin’s fingernails digging deeply into his shoulder blades; the only things keeping Ryan grounded and in the moment. And as he looked upon Gavin, with his head thrown back and eyes screwed shut, those sweet moans of Ryan’s name still pouring out of his open mouth, Ryan thought for sure that the boy was truly made of gold._

He shook his head, trying desperately to stop himself from bringing up memories. He couldn’t trust his brain to not spoil them. His mind would just replay them and replay them over and over until he tried to claw his brain out of his skull. It happened before, with her. Good memories and bad. Their wedding day, her looking so radiant in her eggshell dress. Her dead body, submerged in the tub water that was so red and thick he couldn’t even see past it. Bile rose in his throat at the image of her there. And then a new image. Gavin’s head, so coated in his own blood and destroyed with bruises and cuts that he’s not sure at first if it’s really Gavin. But it is; of course it is.

                _No,_ Ryan tried hard to focus his thoughts. The knife that he had been flicking open and closed dancing so dangerously close to cutting his fingers. But it never did. _We’ll get him. We’ll save him._

                “You okay back there?”

                Glancing into the rearview mirror, he saw Geoff staring at him from the passenger seat. But his throat was closed shut. A lump forming right in the center of it. So he just nodded and returned to looking out the window of the backseat.

                They were on their way to a city a bit out of town. About an hour or so away. They’d gotten a tip that old Creature members tried to continue their gang once they left Los Santos, but too many members broke off. It was definitely a consistent story. Geoff, thankfully, remembered a lot of their faces, and somehow had gotten into contact with the past leader of the Creatures. Ryan hoped, he prayed, that they’d have the answers they needed, because finding other leads in a foreign town would be… Rough, to say the least. He just hoped that his reputation as the Vagabond was more wide-spread than just their own city. The Vagabond did start in rural Georgia, after all. Eliminating small mob gatherings that had even any slight connections to the ones that killed her. But after they were all dead, after the blood of hundreds was soaked into his own veins, he traveled west. Blood and destruction in his wake. A new kind of boogeyman imprinted into the towns that he dared step foot in. It had been years, though, since all of his outside mayhem. He supposed he’d become too reliant on the crew the past few years. But had it not been for the crew, he’d never have met Gavin. His golden boy.

                “ _If you don’t like it,” Their Kingpin’s  voice was near grating, the Vagabond thought. But there was an edge to it that he kind of liked. Reminded him of his father. “You don’t have to stay here. We’re not gonna beg on our hands and knees for you to stay here permanently. We’d definitely like to have you on, seeing as your background is highly useful, but if you just want this to stay a simple one-time job, then we’re fine with that.”_

_Outside he had heard something. A crash, some voices, a laugh scattered here and there. What kind of crew was this? Out on some shipping lot reigning havoc down upon a huge city, all without getting caught? And with so few members? Something had to have been up. Money was a huge benefactor in the Vagabond even considering the job, but the opportunity to learn more about this elusive crew whose reputation hit him before he even got to Los Santos was an opportunity he would not pass up. He leaned his body over the bearded man’s desk and shook the tattooed hand that was offered to him._

_As he left, however, he noticed a few men roughhousing close by. They didn’t notice him. One boy was a lot stronger than the other, easily picking him up and throwing him to the cold hard ground. The one with glasses just sat back and watched, pointing and laughing at the one that had been thrown to the ground. Had it been any other crew; hell, had it been any other member, the person being thrown to the ground would have kicked and screamed and put up a fight. But it was a blond-haired boy with a bright smile, giggling and being helped right back up by the one who threw him. His golden jewelry nearly blinded the Vagabond when it shined a certain way in the sun. But he continued to look, for some reason. There was something about the toothy grin and foreign accent that both annoyed and intrigued him._

_This crew was different all right._

“We’re here,” Michael grumbled, putting the car into park and cutting the engine. “I swear to god if we drove an hour and a half and these fucking assholes have nothing for us I’m gonna kill them.”

                “They’ll have something. They gotta. Working on a crew with people for so long, they have to at least know a fucking bar they frequent or something.”

                Ryan felt strong walking up to the store. The people that were walking on the sidewalks near them stopped and stared, but those who knew their worth just crossed to the other side of the street. So scared. It made him nearly smile beneath the mask. But their mission was too important, too serious for him to focus on those who cowered behind him.

                The woman at the flower shop stopped her arranging when she saw the group walk in. Her wide eyes and shaking hands were tell tale signs. She knew who they were.

                “I suppose you know why we’re here,” Geoff smiled. His smile was so reassuring and genuine. It always was.

                She stuttered for a moment, eyes flicking between the three men that were in front of her counter. She seemed most stunted by the Vagabond, to no surprise. Her eyes then remained at the bouquet in front of her, neatly tucking flowers and filler plants into the vase. It was actually quite stunning, as were the rest of the flowers at the shop. This seemed to be all her doing. Normally money laundering stunts were less neat than this. More lazy in their attempts to cover hidden mafia schemes. Perhaps she was a girlfriend or wife that was brought on for the sole purpose of managing the shop.

                Her name tag read Stefani. And the way it rolled off Geoff’s tongue when he asked her where the others were made Ryan’s eyes roll.

                “They’re upstairs. If you go outside the staircase is on the right of our building. Door should be unlocked.”

                “Not gonna show us there?”

                “I…” Sweat beads started to form on her forehead. There was no reason that they should be giving this girl a hard time. It was just wasting time. Ryan was getting impatient. His fingers started to tap against the gun that was holstered on his thigh. However, he supposed that this might send the wrong message. As immediately the flower woman’s eyes snapped to his fingers and then shot back up to Geoff. “I guess I could.”

                Intimidating the old Creature members wasn’t a challenge at all, Ryan found. Even just he and Michael lingering in the background while Geoff asked them question after question was enough to get them shaking.

                “Please, like we said, we’re not even really a crew anymore. Don’t remember the last time I even saw Dan. It’s just been me and Stefani for a while now. We haven’t kept in contact with anybody else, especially not the ones who didn’t leave Los Santos.”

                “Ah, but there’s the ticket,” Geoff’s posture was reclined and relaxed, swirling around the ice tea in his hand that he was so kindly given a few minutes prior. After taking a sip he set it to rest on his knee, which was still as stone. So different than his tone just mere hours ago. When he was restless and shaking both from the multiple cups of coffee but also the fact that none of them had any idea where their sniper or hacker were and if they were safe or straight up dead. But he watched Geoff carefully, watched him watch the man in the red hat carefully. “We wanna know exactly which ones didn’t leave our city.”

                “W… Uh… Which ones didn’t leave?”

                “Did I stutter?”

                “No,” The man shook his head, scratching at the back of his neck and desperately trying to avoid looking at Mogar and the Vagabond behind Geoff. “Uh, I mean, why?”

                “They’re being annoying, frankly. And we’re gonna kill ‘em.”

                “Right. Well, there were four that left us. But we knew of one other guy that was brought on. Haven’t heard from them since we left Los Santos.”

                A little while longer of talking, and Ryan was quickly getting bored. But there were a few good tips here and there. From names alone, the Fakes had already killed two of the four that left, but two were probably leading the new group. There was a bar that one of them tended to frequent downtown, and only one of the members had ever had an affinity for arson. There wasn’t much, but it was something. An address, some names, something to pin to that group that was  actually tangible now.

                “Oh,” Geoff set his now empty ice tea glass down onto the coffee table as he rose from the couch. “And if you alert them of our presence, or even tell anyone that we were here, consider all this…” His hand waved, gesturing to the room around them. “Gone.”

                With a deep swallow, the man nodded his head and shook Geoff’s hand.

                Ryan expected them to just leave then, but Michael stopped and gestured them into the flower shop.

                “Hey,” He called to the woman behind the counter. “I wanna get a… A vase of flowers before I leave.”

                “Oh… Oh, uh, okay. Um… What, uh, what would you like?”

                “Do you have any like, sunflower things? Like sunflower bouquets?”

                The woman nodded and began making an arrangement for him, obviously working fast with her only goal being to get them out as quickly as possible. Geoff smiled at her work though, complimenting it and telling her that he’d also like one. It was sweet, almost. They were out on a job and both of his friends were caught up in what their significant others would like. It would make his heart melt had it not been for the fact that his own lover was probably tied up somewhere, bleeding out as they waited patiently for the lady behind the counter to finish putting some flowers into vases.

                He spent the car ride home skulking some more.

~*~

                The bar they were tipped off to wasn’t yet open when they got back to Los Santos. Michael had suggested that they make rounds around some of the locations that the Creature crew had been known to hide out in, but Geoff shot him down. Said that it would be best if the two focused their efforts on eating right, staying hydrated, and training their bodies harder. That when the time comes, they need to be prepared to not only kill everybody from Cow Chop that they see, but also be prepared to carry out Gavin and Ray’s bodies. Ryan was unsure if Geoff meant to imply that they would be alive or dead. He didn’t want Geoff to clarify.

                So Ryan spent a while in the gym, lifting weights and doing cardio. He could bench 350 on a good day, usually, and deadlift about 450 if he was feeling well enough. So he wasn’t worried at all about being able to carry Gavin. Or Ray.

                He felt a bit selfish, really. That most, if not all, of his thoughts drifted to just Gavin and his safety. Not that he didn’t care about Ray. Of course he did. Ray was a part of the crew and he’d be trying just as hard to find him if it was just the sniper. But he also knew that Michael would be acting the same way if Lindsay was taken. Geoff would act the same way if Jack was taken. It was personal. It was absolutely personal and Ryan wasn’t going to apologize for it, not for a second.

                He knew that he loved Gavin. He had loved Gavin before he even spoke to him. With the man’s quiet contentment and bubbly laugh. Soft skin, nice hair, the need to cling onto Ryan whenever he found himself within his vicinity. Their subconscious love was loud, and at times a bit overwhelming. When did he fall so hard?

                When was he going to get Gavin back? Would he ever see him again?

                The weights he had held in his hands while doing bicep curls dropped to the ground. He had to be doing something. Go out there and look, even if just for a short while. But before he could even make his way out of the gym, he’d come face to face with Jack.

                “Oh,” She put her hands in front of her, bracing herself to run into him. But the pair never made contact. What was strange, however, was how Jack didn’t smile when she saw him. “Geoff told me to come find you. Said you should head home. It’s already six.”

                Six? Already? They’d wasted so much time that day. With a quick nod to Jack, Ryan tried to head out once more, but was stopped by a hand bracing his shoulder. “You should actually go home, Vagabond. Get some sleep.”

                “We need to be out there looking.”

                “And we will. Jeremy, Matt, and I will. In just a little bit. We have the equipment to do so and now we at least have a lead thanks to your work today. You won’t find anything if you ride around aimlessly and you know it.”

                “Then let me come with.”

                “Absolutely not,” She shook her head, hand still on his shoulder. But after a quick glance down to her calloused hands she slowly slipped her grip off. “We’re taking rounds, Vagabond. We’re a machine working nonstop. And in order for you to be able to work in the daytime while the rest of us get sleep, you gotta get sleep at night.”

                It sucked how right she was. And it sucked how easily he listened to her. If it had been a few years in the past, he would have easily disobeyed, even if he knew that what he was doing was wrong. Consider him wiser with age. Less reckless with more trust in his people.

                Consider him a sad and lonely man, spending twenty minutes sitting in his car in his garage so that he wouldn’t have to go in and look at the living room wall that he and Gavin painted over the holidays. A broken and disheveled man who was usually such a brick house. Four walls that enclosed his feelings and never let them see the light of day. Not until Gavin came in with a sledgehammer and tore all those walls down. Not that Ryan minded.  Gavin had free reign of his soul and he liked it. He let him.

                He lay awake in his bed for hours upon hours. Staring at the ceiling and trying his hardest to avoid how empty the other side of the bed was. Trying so, so hard to not think about fond memories and the ghost of Gavin’s touch.

                Memories were such fickle things. So often did they intertwine themselves with fiction rather than fact, and so often did they contort themselves into something almost unrecognizable to outsiders. Memories were emotions. Changing and flowing and never letting the brain have a chance to breathe. A constant barrage of information. A soothing wave of relief from the stresses of the day. A chance to relive moments of ecstasy or excruciating pain. Memories, although formed in the brain and projected as vivid pictures and words, were so palpable at times. Nearly there, just out of reach. Fingers just dancing on the edge of being there once more.

                He wished he could be with him once more.

                Dancing in the ballroom. Eyes sparkling up at him. His golden boy, with a mask shining ever bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to make a really hard decision about a plot point in the next chapter. I'm unsure on... The severity of what I want to do. Anyways, next chapter will be a while. And it's gonna be very long. Stay tuned.


	5. CHAPTER 5 - GAVIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so in this chapter we ge- Sorry, what was that? I haven't updated in HOW LONG? Huh. People still readin' this shit? I guess we'll find out.

_After a while of driving, the two noticed that they were being followed. But they were uptown. Why was there a member of this gang uptown? Why were they all spread so far apart? Ray and Gavin led him somewhere, a back alley, anywhere they could be shielded from bright lights and prying eyes. Almost immediately upon pulling over, the man in the car following them got out. He was wearing a letterman jacket with the logo of his gang on it, clear as day._

_“Did you really kill them?” He sounded close to tears as he pulled the gun on Ray and Gavin._

_The pair didn’t answer him. They just shot._

_In his trunk was an abundance of money. In his dashboard a ton of documents detailing schemes that they’d pulled in the shadows. So they weren’t just arsonists. They were actual criminals. And that man is their money launderer. Well, was._

_Gavin glanced to the dying man beside them, blood pouring out of his shoulder and gut, right where the two had hit him. Gavin, to himself, was proud that he managed to hit a target. But the man bleeding out in the alleyway was definitely a pitiful sight. So he stepped on his chest to steady the seizing body and let out a shot right between the eyes._

_Seven._

                When he awoke, he was left unsurprised by the pain on the back of his head. But what he was surprised by was how untouched the rest of him was. He had all his limbs, and nothing else actually hurt. And that was the part that got him worrying. The first red flag.

                Around him was a plain white room. Tarps were laid out beneath him, and that was the second, and biggest, red flag.

                He was going to die in here.

                He tried moving his arms and legs, but they were tightly tied with a thick, nylon rope onto the metal chair he was sat in. After a quick wiggle of his body, he determined that the chair was most definitely welded to the floor. He had tried to go through escape plans in his head, what to do when he found himself in these types of situations, but everything was too foggy. Too painful in the back of his head. The door opening interrupted whatever train of thought he had going on.

                “Morning!” The bearded man beamed. He was alone.

                Now that Gavin could get a closer look at him, he was rather intimidating. A very large stature, even though he couldn’t have been much taller than Gavin himself. But his muscles were strong and wide, even beneath the thick army jacket he wore. His big dark beard was a stark contrast from the thinning brown hair on his head. And with his wide nose and smaller eyes he looked more like a caricature than a person. But his smile; that’s what was menacing. The wide grin that stretched from ear to ear, clearly with mal-intent. His canines were almost comically sharp. Gavin couldn’t suppress his hard swallow.

                “Nervous?” His eyes widened, grin dropping. Only to be picked back up less than a second later. “You should be!”

                So he was one for theatrics. God dammit. Whatever he was going to do was going to hurt like a bitch.

                “I mean, you might be wondering, ‘why didn’t we just kill all you Fakes at one time?’,” He all but danced around Gavin, the latter of whom didn’t even move his head to look at him. He knew that in a short time the man would be right back in front of him. Smug, toothy grin and all. “Well, yeah, we know where your warehouse is. And we know all your little identities. We even know,” His face came right up in Gavin’s face then, and it took all of Gavin’s willpower to not spit in it. “That one of you had a little baby recently!”

                This got Gavin visibly worried. His features melted on his face and he could feel the fear and hate rise in from his stomach to his throat like bile. At his shocked expression the bearded man just laughed. His voice was so much higher pitched than one would expect to come from a man like that, but to Gavin that just made him all the crazier.

                “Now, I feel like we’ve been fair so far,” He glanced down at a table that was too high up for Gavin to see on top of from his position on the chair. “I mean, you did kill our hacker,” Gavin could see the shine of a scalpel glint in the light of the small bulb over his head. The man twirled the scalpel in his hands, keeping his eyes on it rather than on Gavin. “And our bruiser. And our money launderer. And our informant. And our other hacker!” With each member he listed off he got more and more bewildered, closer and closer to Gavin, holding the scalpel so dangerously close to his face. But after a moment he stood back up straight. “And we’ve killed none of you. I’d say we’ve been nice; wouldn’t you?”

                “Very,” Gavin managed to whisper out.

                “Oh, and you speak too!” He kneeled down so that he was eye level with Gavin. “You know, normally we just kill and eat the rich immediately. But because you’re a special bunch,” He emphasized this by pinching Gavin’s cheek. His touch felt like pure venom. “We all decided that we’re gonna have a bit of fun.”

                As if on cue, a scream was heard from a distant room. It was muffled, but Gavin could tell that the source was loud. And only one other person he knew was in there with him.

                “Ray,” He said quietly. “What do you want?”

                “You say that like you don’t already know,” His smile was even wider than before. “We want your heads.”

                The bearded man left after setting down the scalpel. It was around twenty more minutes before the screams in another room died down and Gavin could only pray that they weren’t Ray’s screams. Two men entered the room, one hauling a small cart behind them. Both of their clothes were stained with blood and they wore medical masks that hid their mouths and nose. But Gavin could still hear their words clearly.

                “I’m just sayin’, it’d be easier to spread them to separate rooms.”

                “Yeah, whatever. You’re full of shit ideas.”

                The blond (whose dark roots were clearly visible and incredibly tacky) leaned down and squinted his eyes at Gavin. After a minute he stood back up and scratched at his neck, tilting his head towards the other man, who was messing around with tools on the cart.

                “You know, you’d think for someone called the Golden Boy, he’d be a bit more,” He waved his hands in the air, gesturing something grandeur, and turned around to face the dark haired man. “Y’know?” At the hum he got in response, he turned back around to Gavin and tilted his head. “Kinda cute, though.”

                “Man,” The second man shook his head, a sense of frustration clear in his voice. “Shut up.”

                The blond just shrugged and walked back over to the cart. He’d heard of Gavin. Of course he had. Their reputation always proceeded them. Right now, Gavin was the Golden Boy to them. If he had any chance of survival, he needed to be the Golden Boy. Lay it on thick. Gavin’s posture changed to a more upright and aloof tone. He needed to sell it.

“Guess we should introduce ourselves,” He eyed Gavin up and down from his position across the room. After pulling down his medical mask, Gavin could see the sly smile plastered on his face. He picked up a serrated bowie knife from the table and walked back over to the constrained and slightly terrified Gavin. “I’m Aleks, that’s James. Or Immortal and Nova respectively.”

Gavin forced a chuckle out of his throat. But it didn’t seem to faze the blond. “Those are your fake names?”

“Well I just thought you might wanna know our names, since you’ll be cryin’ ‘em out soon.”

“Are you going to torture me or fuck me?”

James groaned, clearly annoyed with the others antics. The groan just made Aleks smile even wider, ducking his head closer to Gavin. “We’ll see.” Behind Gavin’s smile, he’d never felt more disgusted.

“Leave the face alone, James,” The blond twirled the knife around in his fingers.

“Look, if you’re actually about to rape him or something just say it so I can leave,” The brunet said it so nonchalantly. Like it wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last time he said that exact phrase. It sent a chill up Gavin’s spine that he was, thankfully, able to suppress. The thought of having either of them anywhere near him made him want to throw up. For the first time since he’d woken up, he wished for Ryan to be there. Though his pride instantly squandered that wish. No, if he was going to get out of this, he’d fucking do it himself. Somehow.

“Eh,” He put the knife up to Gavin’s throat and tilted his head up, and Gavin just let himself be handled. So long as his hands didn’t touch his skin. It’d be fine. This was fine. He had it under control. “What do you think?”

“Well,” He tried his damndest to be even the slightest bit convincing in his sultriness. Though his confidence wore thinner and thinner the closer the knife got to his jugular. Gavin turned his head slightly towards James. “If you don’t wanna join in the fun, love.” The words spilling out of his mouth almost didn’t seem like his own. Like he was a marionette doing whatever his puppet master commanded. Death was his puppet master that day. He could feel the hands and string creeping around him slowly. He tried to drown out that feeling.

Another disgusted groan escaped James. “I’m taking a break.” He threw his tools back down onto the cart and slammed the door behind him.

Chuckling came from the blond man over Gavin, but after a second he moved back to the cart that he had rolled in and started to fiddle about with the tools on it. It felt agonizing, waiting for whatever was to come. All Gavin knew was that if this man even laid so much as a finger on Gavin, he’d bite it off. Maybe he could figure out some kind of escape plan while the other was doubled over in pain.

“So…” Gavin prayed his voice could remain strong. As he spoke, though, Aleks made his way back to the tied up Golden Boy, bowie knife back in hand. He knew that his vocal strength wouldn’t last much longer. “You gonna untie me? I’ll be of more use that way.”

Maybe it was his obvious fake smile. Maybe it was the way that he was clearly putting on a show. But to his words Aleks just shook his head and chuckled, saying, “Oh, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Then the bowie knife was lodged into Gavin’s arm.

The nerves within his forearm flared to life and sent massive jolts of pain right up his arm and down his spine. Searing, electric, white hot pain clouded Gavin’s eyes for too long. It had been a while since he had been stabbed, and with the serration of the knife he could see how it tore his skin apart. The layers of flesh were soon covered with a thick wave of blood. Almost immediately upon seeing his new wound Gavin was heaved over, trying his hardest to vomit past his lap and onto the floor.

After he had finished puking, he noticed that the pair of boots to his right had not shifted. Slowly he tilted his head up to meet the other, but his eyes were filled with something strange. Then he spoke in a low and hurt tone, “That one was for Aron.”

Unable to stop himself from being a shithead, Gavin smiled to him and said, “Who?” Which, okay, wasn’t the best decision. The knife was back into his body, this time on the opposite arm, mirroring the position of the first stab. Another burst of intense heat and a crashing wave of pain. A scream escaped his throat that he couldn’t hold back.

“And that one was for Anna.”

If Gavin had thought that getting stabbed once hurt, having the knife reenter the first wound? Ripping apart the layers of flesh that were still left there and prying it open with a slight twist was perhaps the most electrifying, torturous pain ever inflicted upon him. All of his muscles tensed up and he could already feel his vocal chords straining from his agonized screams.

“And Asher,” The knife was stabbed back into the wound on his left, twisting and ripping when it dove in and back out again. “And Joe,”

He could feel hot tears streaming down his cheeks, as well as the heaving of his chest against his sweat-soaked shirt. The knife in the man’s hand was slammed back down onto the cart, splashing spots of blood onto Gavin’s pants. His blood. Bile rose in his throat and he knew he was due to throw up again. But before he could heave, his head was jacked up from a harsh hand beneath his chin. Even after it was removed, Gavin kept his head tilted upwards towards the other gang member.

“And Trevor.” He murmured, reeling his fist back and sending it directly into Gavin’s face, who passed out immediately upon impact.

~*~

                Water being splashed into his face woke him up. His face and body were in much worse of a condition than when he had first woken up in that room. Although his eyes would not open all the way and pounded in pain when he tried to (he could tell that he had two black eyes, which wouldn’t be the first time), he could most definitely see a familiar face in front of him; the large bearded man, who appeared to be examining him.

                “You definitely did a number,” He turned behind him, where Gavin could clearly see the dip-dyed blond, Aleks, leaning against the wall with one hand in the other. He was nursing his knuckles, which seemed red and swollen. Surely from the damaged they had done to Gavin’s face. His nose in particular ached, and in the back of his mind he tried to remember what a broken nose felt like. But the most important thing, the one at the forefront of his brain, was his focus on the movements of the bearded man, who now had his back turned and seemed to be putting on large, black, rubber gloves.

“His arms aren’t patched or anything,” He avoided eye contact with Gavin for some reason. “I’m surprised he hasn’t bled out.”

The other man’s head snapped to his underling (Gavin assumed the blond was an underling, solely based on how they were speaking to one another) and hissed, “Well if you did your job right and avoided his arteries then you shouldn’t be surprised,” His head turned back around to Gavin and once he noticed that his captive was coherent enough to understand him, a large smile spread across his face. “Hey!” The hand that clapped over Gavin’s shoulder felt like ice. “Don’t think we’re stoppin’ the party now! We just let you take a quick power nap and now we’re up and running.” A quick pat to Gavin’s cheek with his gloved hand and then he was back around fiddling with something Gavin couldn’t see.

Laughing arose from the bearded man’s throat and after a moment he stepped to the side and faced Gavin.

At first he had no idea what he was looking at, and his half-shut eyes definitely weren’t helping him. It appeared to be a large mass of black and a few tools laying on their sides. But he was too low down and too far away. At his silence the other man smiled even harder, laughing a bit as he spoke, “Come on! You’re not excited?” Turning towards the blond, he nodded his head slightly and then picked up a tool from next to the dark mass.

                Then the blond lit a match that he seemingly pulled out of thin air and tossed it into the dark mass. Instantly a fire arose, making Gavin realize that the mass was coal. And that what the other man was holding was an iron rod.

                “Where you thinkin’, Brett?”

                The rod was pushed into the coals and kept there while the other thought. “I was thinking at first we make them match… But I don’t want to repeat an idea.”

                “What’s gonna hurt?”

                “Oh!” He left the rod in the coals as he walked over to Gavin. Kneeling down, he ducked his head and his hands reached out towards Gavin, nearly giving him a heart attack. How bad of a situation must he have been in when he actually felt a rush of relief when Brett went for his shoes rather than his pants.

                He’d never been branded before. And he knew that the Fakes didn’t brand. The very few times that they needed to get information out of them, their methods of torture were meant to not last long. Rough them up a bit, whether it be fists or knives or whatever, but if they didn’t budge then the Fakes just killed them. But that was an area Gavin was unfamiliar with; his stomach was always too weak for torture. This experience was different, he knew that. This was revenge torture. Vengeance torture. A torture for their fallen members, whose names were still so fresh on the tongues of their remaining team.

                His left shoe and sock were off before he knew it, and it was as the blond was untying the ropes on his leg that Gavin understood his opportunity.

                Brett continued to hold the iron rod in the coal pile, the flames of which were quickly rising and creating a thick smoke in the room. “Open the window and vent, we’re gonna need some air.”

                His left leg was completely free for a moment. They were opening windows and vents somewhere behind Gavin. They were practically begging for him to break free. He just had to wait.

                Aleks had come back around and with a nod from his superior yanked Gavin’s leg upwards to face the hot iron. Its heat, from even just a foot or two away, was intense. Gavin recoiled on instinct, and the thought of having his feet forever having marks of this insidious gang clouded his mind. But his chance was almost there. The iron got closer, closer, so very hot it burned him already.

                He kicked his leg upwards, right out of the hands of the blond and towards the bearded one’s wrist in one fell swoop. The iron, thank God, went spiraling away towards the edge of the room. It might have just been the shock of the sudden motion, but Aleks had been left frozen for just a moment too long. Gavin’s leg reached a bit further out and trapped the man’s neck between his shin and inner knee, applying as much pressure as he could. But he wasn’t fast enough. Not like he thought that what he did was a bread-winning plan anyway.

                Brett’s fist collided with Gavin’s jaw, and for a moment he thought it might’ve broke. A part of him just expected to be killed right then and there. Menacing laughing came from above him, and his jaw was then snatched by a big hand and pulled upwards. “Wow, you really got me!” He laughed again. In a flash his face dropped to a frown, turning his head towards his cohort. “This time, don’t fucking let him have enough wiggle room, idiot.” Another smile as he turned back to Gavin. “Not holdin’ that one against you, buddy,” He took another brand from the stack and stuck it into the controlled flames of the coal stack. “I woulda done the same thing. But! Let’s do it right this time.”

                Grueling seconds ticked by like hours to Gavin as the rod was heated up and brought towards his foot once more. The first thing that happened was the most disgusting sizzling noise that Gavin had ever heard. Then the pain. Shooting up his foot and leg and grabbing a scream from his throat so loud that he thought he’d never be able to speak again. The rod was held there, and Gavin could feel each and every individual layer of skin being pulled and melted off, and as the rod cooled on his skin, it tore even more. Burning flesh hit his nose and made him intensely dizzy, raising that bile right back up. Vomit shot out of his throat and nose without a second thought. After a moment the burning in his foot became a walk in the park compared to the smell and the fumes and the smoke. It entered his nose and lungs and there was no escaping it. Just when he thought it was over, however, his other shoe was taken off and thrown away.

                Involuntary tears left his swollen and aching eyes and a hoarse scream ripped through his throat, which had already felt raw before, when the reheated iron made contact with the sole of his foot. By the time the iron was taken away and the smell of burning flesh intensified, he was back to heaving and retching.

                It was as though all of his senses had been shut off aside from his sense of pain. It pulsated throughout his entire body. From head to toe. The burned flesh that had been ripped and prodded. The stab wounds on his arms that had not received any attention and were throbbing with the threat of infection and blood loss. The soreness of his throat, which would surely close at any moment. The bruises and swelling on his entire face. Dried blood coated his face, and he could feel it crusted and stuck pulling on the hairs of his beard. But he couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, couldn’t even smell the horrible burning of his flesh anymore. At least not for a while. Eventually these senses came back to him, and the first thing he heard was the laughing and chuckling from his captors.

                “Ah,” The one with the higher voice clapped his hands loudly as he spoke. “I like this one! He throws up and it’s just the funniest, don’t you think?”

                They had exchanged a few more words back and forth, but Gavin opted to drown them out in favor of trying not to pass out once more. Perhaps if he just focused hard on hatching up a plan, he could gain just a sliver of hope, and therefore just a sliver of strength. Because at the moment he had felt like all of his strength had been sucked out the minute the brand was burned onto him.

                That changed, though, when he heard what Brett had said next, “Send in Lindsey and Matt.”

                A surge of adrenaline rushed through him at the names. How the fuck did he get Lindsay and Matt? Where they okay? Without even realizing, he had choked out the tiniest, “What?” His voice so hoarse and so strained that it didn’t even sound like his for a moment.

                The two just looked at him with the strangest expressions on their faces. The pair shrugged while they left and spoke amongst one another about things unrelated. But on the inside Gavin was still in full panic mode. New energy sparked throughout him and suddenly he was rolling through new thoughts and ideas and trying desperately to grasp at any feasible plan of escape. If they had Lindsay, did they have the baby? And if they had Matt, who else from the lot did they have? It felt agonizing, waiting so long for any sign of life to come through the thick metal door. He prayed that the two were okay. That they were strong enough to escape. Anything.

                When the door cracked slightly, he took in a deep breath and held. And he held when he saw two unfamiliar faces walk in, rolling a cart between them.

                “Shit,” The woman said after a minute, turning to the man. “Matt, did you grab the alcohol pads?”

                Shakily he released his breath. And a smile, wide as ever, crossed over his face. Never in his life did he feel so much relief come over him. These people weren’t Matt and Lindsay. They were a different Matt and Lindsay. Far away he heard laughing, almost hysterical laughing, and after a moment he could feel the shortened breath coming from himself. It was him who was laughing. And crying. Tears streaming down his face as he couldn’t control his heaving and laughing.

                He was going to fucking die in there. And none of his friends would know. Ryan wouldn’t know.

                His wrist was met with a cold touch from a latex glove. It turned his wrist slightly, revealing the stab wound which had long since stopped flowing blood. The clotted and matted blood at the surface stopped it, he thought. He could hear them talking to one another, but he didn’t make out what they were saying. Underwater again. Feeling like he was drowning.

                Stinging on his forearm caught his attention, and when he actually looked down to it he saw that a sanitary wipe was being used to clean his wound. Another stinging sensation from his other arm and he looked over to confirm that the other person was cleaning his other wound. “Why?” He managed to choke out. His voice sounded even more strained than before, and the words scratched through his throat and vocal chords like they were actually trying to claw their way out of his mouth.

                The man hummed for a moment and then turned his head to meet the gaze of the woman. “Worst is yet to come,” He said.

                “Don’t think we can use the glue, the damage is pretty deep.”

                “Get the staples then.”

                The staples didn’t hurt as bad as he anticipated. Instead of echoed screams of pain, it brought out slight grunts of discomfort. At least his wounds were being treated. But the worst had yet to come, apparently. Though this brief medical treatment meant one thing: That they intended to keep him alive for the foreseeable future, which meant that Gavin had time to come up with plans.

                The two left after a while, and when they opened the door to leave Gavin thought that he heard quiet screams coming from somewhere else in the building. Hoping to God that they weren’t Ray’s, he thought that maybe Ray’s injuries weren’t as bad as his own. Maybe they took it easy on him.

                Quickly Gavin realized that waiting was the most annoying form of torture. At least before he had back-to-back things going on. Sure, he wanted to die just from how painful it all was. And sure, his wounds still throbbed and his face felt like it was attacked by bees from how swollen it was. And yeah, maybe his feet still felt like they were being lit on fire. But at least he didn’t have to wait for anything of those things. At least he could see those wounds and take them head on. Waiting for something new, however, brought on a whole whirlwind of terrifying possibilities.

He was so caked in his own blood and sweat and vomit that he didn’t even care to open his eyes anymore, lest he add to the bile-stained tarp beneath his chair

                After what seemed like hours to the Brit, the door finally opened up to reveal the bearded man once again. Trailing along behind him Aleks, toting a metal cart beside them.

                “Sorry for the wait!” He exclaimed. “Had to take care of some business.”

                He picked up a large black rod from the tray, and for a moment Gavin thought it to be a nightstick. Nothing he hadn’t been hit with before.

                But then he noticed that it was forked at the top of it. And it was much thinner and longer than a nightstick. And then a deafening zapping sound started emanating from it, which small sparks lighting up as it went.

                The man’s smirk turned into a wide grin, something about him looked completely demonic. Like he was a cartoon devil Gavin had seen in a kid’s show. A chuckle from him and his grin became impossibly wider. “What do you think?”

~*~

                By the time they had finished with the cattle prod and left, Gavin was already done hatching his plan. The cattle prod had fucking hurt, though, and he was sure that his chest was littered with harsh red marks from it.  

                He continued wiggling his wrists, making sure that every once in a while he bent down and tugged at the ropes with his teeth. Before the cattle prod, he wondered why they didn’t tie down his chest. But the pulsing pain that centered on those spots they hit him definitely answered that question.

                A long time ago, years and years ago, Jack had told him that when your wrists were bound, it was actually pretty easy to loosen them with your teeth, so long as you had room to wiggle your wrists around. Bless her heart for telling him that, and bless Gavin’s brain for remembering that fact. But the plan wasn’t completely done yet. He was still flicking around ideas of what the next step was. If Brett entered the room with a lackey, it would be extremely difficult to get past him. One or both of them would probably be carrying a gun, but getting a weapon and fighting would be the best form of escape. If other Matt and other Lindsey were sent in to clean up, it would be relatively easy to fight them off. He had checked the window, but it seemed like the metal bars were welded down. And the vent was definitely welded as well. Fighting was his only hope.

                He thought about Ryan. How he’d always offered to train Gavin in hand-to-hand combat. But Gavin would just scoff at him, giving the excuse that “He’d always have a gun; if he didn’t he’d already be dead.”

                Gavin chuckled at the thought. Already dead.

                The metal scrape of the door opening made Gavin quickly retract his hands and did his best to pretend tha he was still fully bound. What a surprise, though, when just one person entered the room. The long-haired man from before, the one who had been seemingly fed up with his cohort. He had with him a metal cart (which seemed to be of no shortage around this place) and his mouth was still concealed by a surgical mask.

                Only three times before this had Gavin been kidnapped. One was before the crew, as a little boy, used as a pawn by a rival mob boss. He dangled Gavin’s life over the head of his Grandfather, someone wrapped up in the Italian mob. But he didn’t remember much of that man, or that kidnapping. He just remembered being terrified. The second time he was kidnapped, he was relatively new to the crew. Though he wasn’t in his prison long (they only roughed him up the tiniest bit) before Jack and Geoff came to his rescue. Then a few years back they planned on him getting kidnapped, just so that they could locate where the other gang was hiding out. They never even laid a finger on him.

                But he had seen what happened to others. Jeremy had gotten nabbed a few times, and Michael once. He had heard stories from Geoff and Jack both recalling times they’d been held captive. At least after this, Gavin might have a story of his own to share with them.

                Well, if he made it out.

                He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even realize that the man had been glaring at him.

                And yet, instead of being terrified of what pain these people could inflict on him next, he said, “What? Something on my face?” With the brightest of smiles plastered onto his face.

                An eye roll is all he got as a response, with the man turning back around and fiddling with something on the table. Then, slowly, he lowered himself into a crouched position so that he got slightly below eye level with Gavin. Gavin noticed that he held a bowie knife in his hand; the same one that had mangled his arms before. Had it been hours since then? Days? All he knew was that his entire body was aching. His throat and mouth were bone dry. His stomach was churning with bile.

                “You know,” The man looked down to his knife, flicking it around a couple of times before making eye contact with Gavin once more. “I wanted someone better than you.”

                “What?” His words were very weak. Very confused. Something about his face must’ve been funny, seeing as James laughed softly and bitterly at him.

                “Well, it’s just that we wanted a more important one. We knew we couldn’t get the boss. But maybe the one in the orange and purple. Or the woman.”

                At the mention of his friends Gavin could feel his blood start to boil.

                “Fuck, man, the sniper was what made this thing worth it. What do you even do again?” His laugh was more a cackle than anything.

                Then he stood over Gavin, peering down onto him, knife held tightly in his fist. “Maybe they haven’t even noticed that you’re gone.”

                He drove the knife into Gavin’s thigh, just on the outside of it. His throat burned but his screams still ripped through it. The way this one pressed into his skin, putting as much pressure into the knife as he physically could, it felt like his leg was being torn into pieces. He didn’t know if he was crying. His eyes were still too bruised and his face had been stinging consistently for the past while. Despite the knife obviously not hitting any major arteries, the wound still bleed profusely around the knife.

                His wrists were loose in the ropes.

                “You’re probably the disposable one.”

                His wrists were no longer in the ropes.

                He ripped the bowie knife from his own thigh, letting a guttural scream come out of him as he did so. He could feel it tearing tendons and flesh as he pulled it from his leg. At first the other man didn’t react, but after realizing what was happening, he lunged for the knife. But Gavin switched hands, grabbing the man’s long curly hair with his free one and plunging the knife into his throat with the other.

                Blood splattered onto Gavin’s face and clothes, adding a second coat to the already dried first coat of blood from earlier. His hands were so slick with sweat and blood that it was hard to hang onto the handle of the knife, and sure enough as the man toppled backwards, the knife remained deep in his throat.

                Quickly Gavin bent down to try to undo the ropes around his ankles, but it was also difficult, seeing as his hands were coated in blood and he was smearing it all over the ropes. Eventually he got it, and without even sitting up, he lunged forward towards the body on the ground and ripped the serrated bowie knife from his throat. He was still alive, choking and gargling on his own blood, his shaking hands grasping at the wound, trying in a futile attempt to save himself.

                Gavin wasn’t quite sure if the next scream came from him, because it felt so far away. So loud and sad and broken.

                He also wasn’t quite sure if his hands were moving to their own accord. Stabbing and stabbing and stabbing brutally into the man’s throat. He knew he couldn’t feel his face. But now he couldn’t feel his whole body. Was he finally dead?

                No, but the man beneath him was. Long dead, with his neck a bloody mess, so torn up that it probably wasn’t even there anymore.

                _Six._

                Upon the sight, Gavin immediately threw himself off the body and to the side, heaving and retching. But nothing came up. He stayed like that for a while before finally giving up and trying to stand. His feet were still badly hurt, however, and he could feel the raw tissue of his soles burn beneath him. He met cold, hard concrete underneath the tarp as he collapsed.

                There was no way he could rest long. Surely someone would either notice James’ disappearance or  stop by to continue Gavin’s torture. So he dragged himself on his knees to the body, trying his best not to look at the area he decimated, and checked the pockets.

                A phone. With reception. Maybe he had a chance after all. But the only number he could remember off the top of his head was Geoff’s, and he was feeling so dizzy from falling. He quickly typed in Geoff’s number and then smacked the keyboard randomly, hoping that the mess of numbers and letters would somehow come across as “Help me” to anybody that saw it.

                He set the phone down and continued to search the body. Sure enough, there was a gun holstered in his belt, slightly hidden by his shirt. After checking the safety and rounds (Sixteen in the clip, none other with him), Gavin ripped the holster off and fastened it to himself, keeping the gun concealed. He still brandished the knife, though. He closed his eyes and with all his might, stood up.

                It was shaky at best. Feeling himself wobble and stumble, he made his way to the nearest wall and propped himself against it, feeling his way to the door. Bloody handprints followed him as he inched along the wall until eventually he reached the door and took a peek around. Nothing from what he could see. Dead silence hit him and he wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse after listening to himself and Ray scream bloody murder throughout the time they’d been there. Was his lack of screaming now a sign that he was no longer there?

                Taking a deep breath, Gavin slowly shut the door behind him and made his way down the narrow corridor. There were doors on all sides of him, and at each one he stopped briefly to listen. Praying that he heard some sign of life behind one of them. Then, towards a door at the end of the hall, he heard a slight whimpering. He wasn’t sure if it was Ray, but it didn’t matter. Whoever was in there was either getting bipped or getting rescued.

                He opened the door, slightly crouched, and saw the woman, Lindsey, tending to Ray’s leg. She was kneeling down and looking away from Gavin, but at the sound of the door opening said, “Just put it on the cart.”

                Ray hadn’t noticed him. Quickly he shut the door and took one big stride towards her, letting out a low yell at the pressure put on his raw foot. It was as she turned around that the knife made contact, hitting her in the middle of her neck. Before she could let out a scream, however, he took it back out and hit her once more in the neck. Life left her eyes as she sank to the floor.

                _Five._

                He must have looked fucking insane, judging from the wide-eyed stare Ray gave him. But Ray himself didn’t look all that great either. Big purple bruises that looked like bands were spaced evenly down the length of his arms, and his face also sported bruises and punctures. His legs, though, were littered with small, but deep, cuts.

                “Vav,” His voice was so quiet.

                Gavin just shushed him and started to untie the ropes around his arms and legs. His hands were shaking so hard, but he noticed that Ray’s were shaking even harder. When his hands were finally released he saw what had happened. “Jesus,”

                Ray’s hands had been branded, much like Gavin’s feet. Gavin hadn’t seen his soles, though, so the sight of Ray’s wrecked hands made his stomach churn. “Yeah,” He croaked.

                “Don’t suppose you can use a gun?”

                “They took my glasses, I couldn’t even use one if I wanted to.”

“Shit,” Still, Gavin checked the woman’s body over. She had the same gun that the other man did. Sixteen more rounds, at least. He shoved the clip in his pocket and looked up to Ray, who now stood from his chair on wobbly legs. “Don’t think I can get up, X-Ray.”

“What?”

“They,” His voice caught in his throat. He nodded to Ray’s hands and then shook his head. “They got my feet like how they got your hands.”

Ray bent down then, and Gavin could now see that what the woman must’ve been doing was stitching up all his little cuts. Only about half of them on one leg were done, and even then they were poorly done. After a beat of silence Gavin looked slightly up to meet Ray’s eyes.

“I can’t see far away,” He said. “And I can’t hold a gun. But I can at least walk,” Grabbing Gavin’s arms, he guided them towards his shoulders and then hoisted Gavin up with all his strength. Immediately Gavin leaned right into him. “I got you. Just make sure you kill anyone who tries to kill us.”

Unsure as to why, Gavin started crying. Tears streaking his face and falling silently. But he gave Ray a quick nod and the pair began their trek out.

It remained eerily silent in the building. No sounds other than their own footsteps. No cameras either, from the looks of the bare walls and ceiling. What was this place? Gavin pocketed the knife (Which was awkward, seeing as it was bigger than most of his pockets) and then took the gun from the holster.

The whole place seemed like a maze. With each turn of the corridor they seemed more lost. And nearly his whole body weight was resting on Ray, seeing as he couldn’t put as much pressure onto his own feet before toppling over. Based on the fact that Ray was breathing quite heavily from doing the lifting, Gavin figured that they needed to find the exit soon before the both of them would collapse onto the ground for good.

However, before Gavin could comment on it, they turned the corner and were met with a large room, full of computers. And there was a face behind one of them.

Without thinking, Gavin drew the gun and shot at the man behind the computer. The shot rang loud, and for a moment he thought he had lost his ability to hear. But after the ringing died down, he heard a yell from far away. Uproarious and angry. Then heavy footsteps, stomping, running, fast approaching.

“Where the fuck did they go?!” Repeated the voice.

                Ray led Gavin to the desk that the man had sat at and hid the two behind it. Gavin could partially see his body, laying lifeless on the floor, just a few feet away.

_Four._

He clenched his jaw and peered over the desk into the hallway. They could still hear the rumbling footsteps of someone storming down the hallway. Gavin braced himself, readying his gun. But a hand on his shoulder made him pause his actions.

“Gav,” A bottle was suddenly in his face. Rum? Ray caught his confused glance and held it closer. “We should burn this place up. What’s this place made of, stucco? It’ll go down in a second.”

Gavin peeked his head up and searched the desk. Nothing to use to light it. Quickly he shuffled through a few drawers. It was all coincidence, or maybe it was a real angel watching over them, but Gavin had actually managed to come across a lighter. Faintly he wondered why they hadn’t died yet.

Another loud shot rang out around them, above them, around them, somewhere near them. Because all Gavin could hear was the intense boom of a gun and then a voice from the hallway screaming.

“You leavin’ so soon?!” He laughed. “We were just about to sew your mouths shut! But it looks like we should’ve cut your feet off first!” His yelling was near psychotic, and the crazed grin resting on his face sent chills down Gavin’s spine.

Before Gavin could pull the trigger, Ray had already thrown the bottle of rum in between them and Brett. Without thinking Gavin pulled back the top of the lighter and threw it. Flames erupted, spreading immediately across the middle of the room, catching cords and desks on fire instantaneously.

“Fuck!” He yelled, grin dropping completely. Through the flames Gavin made direct eye contact with him. Smoke and heat distorted his face into something twisted, and even though Gavin knew he was frowning somehow the funhouse mirror that was the flames turned it completely upside down.

Gavin fired off a few rounds towards him, but all the shots missed. It was then that the flames moved to the walls, and it was getting too hot. Beside him Ray began to choke and cough.

“We gotta get outta here,”

“You’re not going anywhere!” More shots fired off around them, and Gavin could hear the bullets scraping the desk and electronics around them.

“We need to leave,” Ray coughed out.

Smoke clouded Gavin’s already limited vision, but although he could no longer make out Bret fully he could still see his shape across the room. He must’ve stopped to reload his gun, as the pang of bullets around them had ceased.

The fire was growing larger. Spreading further. The walls were now transmitters for the flame and everything around him turned a bright red.

Gavin tried to focus. Tried to remember any of the training that he and Ryan had done. To steady his breath, focus his line of sight, listen for his enemy. But his lungs were so filled with smoke and the flames were getting hotter and louder and everything was so dizzying. He took the shot anyway.

“Mother fucker!”

The shadow of the man dropped something on the ground and turned heel, leaving Ray and Gavin alone in the room. After staying dead silent for a few seconds, he heard nothing but the crackling frames around them.

Ray grabbed his shoulder then, trying to heave him upwards onto his feet once again. Then, as loud as he could make his voice over the fire, he said, “Gav the fire’s only gonna get worse, we have to leave!” 

More corridors, more rooms off to the side, and somehow they were all on fire. When had the flames spread this far? Gavin leaned his whole weight into Ray and tried his hardest to move his feet without putting much pressure on them. But he couldn’t really move the pair, and Ray didn’t have his glasses. Things were getting foggy. Too much smoke.

And then a blast of cool air in their faces.

Glancing up, Gavin noticed that the night sky was full of dark clouds, all swirling around and moving much too fast.

Still clung to Ray’s side. But he was alive. Ray was alive. At first it was hard to believe. A glance at the two and one would think that they were walking corpses. Covered in soot and blood and tears.

The fire from the building was so high now. And he could still feel the ash and smoke taking residence in his lungs like they belonged there. It was so bright. Bright and hot and loud. Why was this image so familiar? Why did he feel his eyes and heart being drawn towards the carnage?

Distantly he felt Ray let him go and leave. But that was so far away. He wasn’t in his body anymore. He couldn’t feel the pain anymore. Not in his torn-apart arms or the raw flesh of his feet. Not in the still-open and still-bleeding missing chunk of his thigh. He glanced down away from the fire for just a moment, examining his blood-soaked hands. Was it his blood anymore?

“Gavin.”

He turned and met a skull.

And then a final thought passed through his mind before he crumbled into the asphalt.

_Is this death?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe the next chapter won't take another 4 months. 
> 
> But in all seriousness, I am really sorry for the lack of content. More one-shots, continuations, and yes, a resolution to What Will It Take? are all coming!


	6. CHAPTER 6 - RYAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're close to the end of this one! But don't worry, I have tons of other FAHC!Freewood content. They're all one-shots, though. And actually, I don't have that many ideas for new a series. If anyone has any requests, please leave a comment here! I know I ask for requests a lot, but no one really sends any my way!

                “We’re working as fast as we can,” Trevor’s voice shook. “But we’re working on an hour of sleep at most. And it looks like their wounds might’ve been infected, so we’re battling that as well.”

                Joel groaned, continuing to pace around outside of the medical bay, just as he’d been doing for the past few hours. Each and every one of them were nervous, though. Michael and Lindsay were holding the baby close, bouncing her and cooing to her as a distraction from what was happening. Jack and Geoff were positioned on the floor, going over maps and plans and anything that might help them catch the last remaining gang members. Jeremy was messing around on his phone, but his foot drilled holes into the floor where he sat.

                Ryan was brewing, that’s what he was doing. Brewing and conflicted and somewhat angry. His partner sat in a hospital bed in the next room over potentially dying or already dead. His brain was telling him to have hope, to be positive, but his past was telling him the exact opposite.

                “Alfredo, Matt, and I are trying to assess the damage and treat them accordingly, but we’re not experts. We weren’t prepared for this.”

                “Well can you at least tell us what happened to them?” Geoff’s voice rang out. He was frustrated, from the sound of it. Not at Trevor, no. He was angry like Ryan was angry. Angry at himself, angry at the world, angry at the other crew.

                There was a pause before Trevor nervously glanced down to his clipboard. He had tried to speak up but failed, his voice getting caught in his throat. He cleared it and then continued, “It seems like they were both beaten, Gavin’s broken nose being the worst of either of their faces. But… We found brand marks on them both.”

                “What?” Jack stood, her eyes wide.

                “Ray had his hands branded, and Gavin had his feet branded. It seems like when we compare them the lines start to make marks of the crew’s emblem.”

                Every single person in the room released a breath. A gasp. Ryan took a glance to Michael and Lindsay and saw that Michael held his head in his hands while Lindsay carefully held the baby in one arm and rubbed Michael’s back with the other.

                “And,”

                Before Trevor could finish, Michael’s exhausted and broken yell interrupted. “There’s fucking more? They were there for less than twenty-four hours!”

                “Yeah. Yeah, they were,” Trevor shook his head. “Both of them had signs of electrical scarring, Ray around both of his arms and Gavin all over his chest. Finally, both of them suffered stab wounds along their arms and legs, none breaking any major arteries. Ray’s were deep and small, likely from a scalpel. Gavin’s were large and deep, nearly going to the bone in one case. We think the knife he had on him did it.”

                “Well how long ‘til we can see them?” Joel snapped.

                “Like I said, we’re working as fast as we can, but we’re unsure which areas might be infected and some of the deeper cuts require delicate stitching that, honestly, we’re not pros at.”

                They continued on, going back and forth, but Ryan was already done. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to will his headache away. Trying to will the whole situation away.

                “ _Gavin,” He whispered once more in a vain attempt to grab the others attention away from the fire. As Gavin turned around, Ryan took a harsh breath in._

_Gavin was absolutely soaked in blood, head to toe. He couldn’t even make out most of Gavin’s features past the dark red blood. Ryan’s exact nightmare, picked from his mind and brought to life. He seemed to not recognize Ryan; his eyes so far off and dulled of any sign of life. Then he fell, and Ryan felt like he was falling too, because he was. Right onto his knees next to Gavin. Frantically he picked the lad up and carried his limp body towards the rest of the crew._

He didn’t want to think about this.

                Not even bothering to say goodbye, he left the medical bay and went towards the garage.

                Sunrise nearly broke through the gray clouds above. The mixture of the moonlight and hints of sunlight shone onto the lot. Ryan could see his breath go through the mask and dissipate into a fog cloud in the chilled air around him.

                “Hey!” A voice called behind him.

                He didn’t even have to turn around in order to know who it was.

                “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” Geoff grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, stopping the Vagabond in his tracks.

                Where was he going? Away. Away from the waiting, away from the inevitable news that Gavin had been dead the whole time and that they tried but failed to revive him. The grievance of another lost lover was so heavy on his heart, and he couldn’t take it. He didn’t want to be there.

                But instead of saying all that, Ryan just shrugged.

                Geoff let out an annoyed huff and then crossed his arms. “Well, when Gavin wakes up he’s probably gonna be pretty fucking scared if you’re not there.”

                In a universe where Gavin did wake up, Ryan sure as hell would want to be there. But who said it was this universe? Why, of all times, would fate suddenly decide to relent and give him what he wanted? But the image of Gavin waking up and not knowing where Ryan was, calling out desperately to find him, was enough to bring Ryan back to the medical bay.

                Throughout the next few hours Ryan had flipped back and forth in his mind from incredibly hopefully to falling down a pit of endless despair. One minute he wanted nothing more than to see Gavin, trying to believe in miracles. The next minute he was finding himself wanting to run again, to remove himself from the situation entirely.

Another, much bigger part of him, wanted to absolutely fucking kill Joel.

                He hadn’t even known the CEO’s name before this whole situation happened. He wasn’t sure who, but someone alerted Joel to Ray’s return, to which he asked, “Return from what?” And promptly cancelled all of his meetings in order to meet them at the lot once he was told what happened. Or, at least, that was the story that he told them. A hundred times. Between the complaining and pacing, Ryan was about ready to tear him in two, but he had to remember that this man was a wealthy investor of theirs. Still, it was hard to contain his annoyance.

                It was nearly seven in the morning by the time Trevor had come out next. His gloves and clothes were covered in blood, and he seemed extremely sweaty and tired. Everyone waited with baited breath as he spoke.

                “They’re alive, first off,” A sigh came from the group. “Secondly, Ray’s up and fine. We actually had to sedate him before we stitched him up, ‘cause he was awake the whole way here. He’s tired, though, so be quiet.”

                Before Trevor could even finish, Joel was already sprinting into the room to see Ray.

                “What about Gav?” Geoff couldn’t hide the worry in his voice.

                Trevor blinked for a moment and then sighed. “Gav’s still out. He’s been out since he got here, including the whole time we fixed him up. But he should be fine. I’m worried about how much smoke they both inhaled, though. We just have to keep an eye out for excessive coughing.”

                “Let’s go see Ray,” Michael picked his baby up, putting her on his hip while he guided Lindsay with his free hand.

                And one by one they shuffled in, all except Ryan, whose back was glued to the wall behind him. It took Geoff a second to realize that the Vagabond was not following along, and when he did notice he turned his body and motioned for him to join. The Vagabond just shook his head. He already saw Gavin. When he collapsed onto the road, his face and body unrecognizable past the blood. What if Gavin was worse now? What if underneath all the blood was worse?

                “At least see Ray,” Geoff whispered.

                That he could do.

                When he entered the room, the smell of sterilization products physically hit him in the face. It was clear that they tried their best to clean up the blood, but Ryan could still see the blood-stained gurneys near the back of the room.

                There were about six total recovery beds in the ward, each having a curtain divider for privacy. The group was crowded around the second one on the left side, clearly speaking to Ray in hushed tones. And the only other curtain drawn was the one on the right side in the far back. Gavin.

                Slowly he made his way past Ray’s curtain. The lad definitely looked worse for wear, and that was only taking into account his face. When Ryan saw the purple bands on his arms he immediately felt sick to his stomach.

                “I don’t know, it was like a shock collar, but all the way around?” Ray croaked. It was a familiar scratchiness. The kind that came from non-stop guttural screaming. Ryan knew it well. “The branding was the worst, though, for me at least.”

                His hands were completely bandaged, and Ryan was partially thankful for that. He wasn’t sure he could stomach all the carnage, at least not at that moment.

                When did he get so soft? When did the ice melt away from his heart? And since when did he so easily allow his emotions to just… Be? He remembered a time where if one of his teammates got hurt he wouldn’t even bat an eye. But, then again, was it ever that way with Gavin?

                _The British one was overdramatic. That was something the Vagabond learned quickly._

_He’d been on the team for a few months now, and slowly he was starting to weigh in his mind if it was worth it or not. Especially since he was paired with two of the most annoying members; the Golden Boy and the ever-angry Mogar._

_The Mogar had said something to his peer; an insult or joke or something. Because now the Golden Boy was squawking and complaining, as if the other had deeply hurt him. Except that wasn’t the case. For there was a glint of something behind his eyes. A sliver of mischief. Then those same eyes caught the Vagabonds, and all of that light drained from them and in its place came fear and embarrassment. Quickly the lad looked away._

_Their job wasn’t too difficult. Wait around behind cover while Jack baited the other gang. They just had to wait for the bait and then shoot._

_Sadly, the Golden Boy got tagged. Well, not really tagged. He was yelling and holding his shoulder where the bullet barely grazed him, and something about his yelling made Ryan extremely uncomfortable. Like when a baby cries and a mother immediately has her maternal instincts kick in. But these weren’t maternal instincts. The Vagabond assumed that it was him just wanting the screaming buffoon to stop._

He took a quick glance over his shoulder in the direction of Gavin’s bed. That same familiar uncomfortable feeling was with him then.

                “Guys…” Ray’s voice was quiet, even past the hoarseness of it. Ryan saw that he was hyper fixated on the bandages that wrapped his hands up. “I… I, um… I need to talk to you.”

                A sinking feeling in his gut told him all he needed to know, and as he glanced around at the other faces in the room he knew that they felt it coming too.

                “For a long time I’ve been, uh, kinda weary of this job. I mean I definitely didn’t think I’d ever be in the mob. But… I stayed because I care about you guys. You guys have been like a family to me.” Joel’s hand came to Ray’s shoulder and he squeezed gently. “I felt obligated to stay because I felt like if I didn’t… I’d uh… I’d lose you guys. But after this, man, I just… I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

                “Oh,” Jack’s voice didn’t hide her hurt. “Ray, you know you’ll always be with us. Even if you’re not… Actually here.” Her smile was sad. She was the only one smiling, too. All the others had pained frowns dawned, and Michael looked the most shocked and upset by the news.

                Geoff stepped forward then, and he put a hand on Ray’s bed very gently. “You are allowed to come and go as you please, Ray. If you feel like you need to leave, then we’re not gonna stop you. Doesn’t mean we won’t miss you, and trust me we’re all gonna try to convince you to stay, but if this isn’t makin’ you happy then what more can we do other than let you go?”

                It looked for a moment like Ray was going to cry. Maybe at Geoff’s words, or maybe at Jack and Lindsay’s open crying, or maybe even at Michael’s small tears that he desperately tried to hide.

                Ray was a good man. He was always one of the more patient and calm members with Ryan. Never really roughhousing, never really saying much, but when he did speak it was always to bring just the right spark to the room. It was a real loss. A real, heavy, and disappointing loss.

                He saw Lindsay put her hand on the bed to join Geoff’s, and then Jack put her hand on, and then eventually all of their hands met Ray’s bed. Ryan’s too.

                “Thank you,” Ray’s voice broke. “For everything.”

                They all gave him hugs and pats on the back and loving, kind, sweet words. Of course this crew would be nothing but supportive, even though one of their beloved children was leaving the nest.

                Ryan wanted to say that he would always miss him. That someone leaving this family of theirs was heartbreaking, and that he never thought this kind of loss would ever affect him again. After his wife, after his parents, after everyone he cared about all those years ago he thought he was done feeling. But there he was, surrounded by people who brought him safety and joy and he was having to say goodbye to one of them.

                Ryan cleared his throat. The room looked to him, slightly shocked.

                “Sorry to see you go, Ray."

                Ray nodded his head, a serious tone across his face. Then a more relaxed one, a genuine smile, creeping onto him once a thought came to him. “I assume you’ll kill me if I tell anyone what you sound like, right?”

                A real laugh came out of him then, and he could hear Ray laugh along with him. “Yeah,” He said. “I will.”

                He’d never.

~*~

                Unlock. Nothing new. Lock. Try to focus on something else. Unlock. Nothing new. Lock. Try to get out his pocket knife to flip it around but Geoff had already taken it from him several miles ago. Wash, rinse, repeat. If he kept it up, Geoff would surely take his phone away too.

                They’d been driving for nearly an hour, and being away from Gavin was making him extremely anxious, especially since the lad hadn’t even woken up yet. Geoff had even said himself that if Gavin were to wake up and not see Ryan he’d be scared. And yet, Geoff insisted that they leave.

                “Back to the flower shop,” He had said. “We’re going to get Ray and Gavin bouquets.”

                They pulled up to it then, and from their car Ryan could see the woman getting ready for the day, watering her flowers and singing a song that only she could hear.

                “What flowers do you want to get him?” Geoff smiled.

                There was no hesitation when he spoke.

                “Forget-me-nots.”

                “ _They symbolize remembrance, Ryan.” Gavin beamed to him, hair disheveled and wild against the pillow. He played with Ryan’s hand, and the older man just let him. “And they help bring back good memories. Plus, I just like the color blue.”_

_What a silly answer, he thought. Who else would have said forget-me-nots? But then again, he wasn’t sure why he brought it up in the first place. Ryan could feel his heart in his throat. Gavin’s words came so easy to him. His smile came so easy to him. He was so unashamed with his silly thoughts and Ryan couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. He took Gavin’s hand properly into his own and then gave a gentle kiss to the back of it._

_“I think you’d be like a lily, Ry.”_

_“And why is that?”_

_“They symbolize devotion.”_

“And lilies.”

                “Okay,” Geoff chuckled. “That was quick. Let’s go in, then.”

                The woman was terrified when the two entered, which surprised neither of them. Geoff just waved her a hello and walked up to the counter, leaning on his elbows and admiring all the flowers.

                “Is- is something wrong? Did we do something wrong?” Her voice quivered.

                “No,” His hand then came to support his chin, and he gave her another smile. This one was almost sleepy. Ryan noticed how her shoulders immediately relaxed upon seeing it. “In fact, we’re here as sort of a thank you for cooperating. We’d like two more bouquets, please.”

                “Oh,” She sighed, obviously relieved, but her slight smile dropped when her eyes noticed the Vagabond. “Well, what can I get you?”

                “We’d like one with roses. Red, if you can. And those, uh… The little white flowers?”

                “Baby’s breath?”

                “Those would be the ones.”

                She giggled, turning around and taking out bundles of flowers from barrels behind her. They talked for a moment about other greenery, and she had tried to suggest a few for him to pick from, but at Geoff’s statement that he knew actually nothing of flowers she just shrugged and said she’d do the decision making when it came to filler foliage.

                “We’d also like one with forget-me-nots and lilies.”

                “Wow,” Her eyebrows crinkled for a moment, but her smile was consistent. “That’s a specific one. But pretty. It’ll take me a minute. Would… Either of you like something to drink?”

                Geoff turned his head slightly towards Ryan, and with a chuckle Geoff shook his head. “I think we’re good. Him especially.”

                “Yeah…” Her hands were busy fixing the bouquet in front of her, but her eyes looked around nervously. “Is… Is he…” She then stopped with the bouquet and turned timidly towards Ryan. “Are you really the Vagabond?”

                “Careful,” Geoff clicked his tongue and leaned against the counter once more. “He’s dangerous.”

                If she could look behind the mask, she would have seen the biggest smile on Ryan’s face. But instead she just saw the dark skull tilt its head slightly. She didn’t ask any other questions until she rang them up and asked, “Will that be all for today?”

~*~

                “Is that why you guys were gone for so long?” Ray laughed, looking at the roses that were placed on the side table near his bed. “You didn’t have to get me flowers. A skin graft for my hands, maybe, but not flowers.”

                Geoff laughed, of course. “We’re really gonna miss you, buddy.”

                It was just them in the medical ward now. Everyone else had left to either work on finding the remaining gang members or to go home and get some much needed sleep. And Ryan could feel that need creeping up on him too. But it’d gotten to the point where if Gavin wasn’t next to him he had such trouble falling asleep. He was becoming too reliant. But as he looked down upon the forget-me-nots and lilies in his hands he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

                Geoff and Ray continued to talk for a while until Ray asked them for a moment to himself to sleep. He said that Cow Chop had taken a lot out of him. So both of them left, pulling Ray’s curtain closed and cutting him off from the rest of the room. It was like his body didn’t want to look to where Gavin was. But Geoff put a steady hand on Ryan’s shoulder and led him there. A helping hand. A guiding hand. Unsure if he was grateful or terrified, Ryan let himself be led there.

                Sweat coated his palms as he reached for the curtain. He just had to pull them back. Pull them back and see that it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

                He turned away and shook his head at Geoff.

                “Why are you so nervous?” His kingpin wasn’t angry. Wasn’t even upset. Just concerned.

                He was talking before he even knew it. “This all just… It just feels like a repeat of my past. Why would it be different this time?”

                Geoff nodded, jaw clenching and eyebrows furrowing as he thought. “Yeah. But I mean it’s not the past, right? We’re here right now. This is the present. And Gav needs you here.”

                A voice of reason. Ryan knew he was right. But the churning in his stomach didn’t ease.

                Then they heard shifting from Gav’s bed and both of their heads whipped towards the sound. All was still for just a moment. Until there was another shift from his bed, and Ryan was walking past the curtain before he knew it.

                He was met with Gavin stirring in the bed, and past all the bruises and cuts and black eyes Ryan saw his Golden Boy. He drifted towards the chair next to the bed and set the flowers down beside him. Both hands came up to Gavin’s, which were twitching and moving as the lad awoke. Geoff was next to Ryan then, with a look of concern that must have matched Ryan’s beneath his mask.

                A muttered moan left Gavin’s throat as he opened his eyes. For a moment he looked panicked, and tried to pull his hand away, but then he must have realized where he was, because he let out a shaky laugh and relaxed.

                “Gav?” Geoff reached towards Gavin’s knee, just to hold onto something as he talked to him. “You okay?”

                “Perfect,” His voice was even more hoarse than Ray’s, and for some reason Ryan could feel it in his throat too. “Why do you ask?”

                A laugh came from Geoff, but Ryan couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was feeling. “Right,” He turned to Ryan and put a light hand on his shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone for now. Come get me when you’re done.” With one more smile to Gavin he left, but Ryan waited until he heard the click of the infirmary door until he turned to Gavin.

                The sight was almost pitiful, but Ryan couldn’t bring himself to feel pity or even relief. He just felt waves and waves of guilt drowning him. Thoughts of if Gavin was still upset, of how if Ryan had just left it alone he wouldn’t look like this. He wouldn’t be burned and scarred and beaten. Ryan removed his mask and the words, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Gavin. I’m sorry,” kept tumbling out of his mouth.

                “Ryan,” Gavin whispered. He took his hand from Ryan’s and that was it. It was over. Gavin nearly died and of course they both blamed Ryan.

                Then he felt a hand gently cup his cheek. He brought his face up and was met with the most bittersweet smile he’d ever seen. “Lovely Ryan,” Gavin started to wipe the tears off of his cheeks, and he leaned into that hand like it was the only thing keeping him afloat. “Why are you sorry?”

                “If I… You… It didn’t have to be you.”

                Gavin just hummed and continued to look at Ryan. “No, it’s okay. It was my fault. I was upset, and I should have been more vigilant.” The croakiness of his voice was hard for Ryan to listen to. So instead he just leaned down and brought the bouquet up for Gavin to hold, and he took it graciously.

                “Did you get these for me?” Ryan noticed how he could barely see Gavin’s green eyes. Usually so bright and full of life, but now they were hidden away behind the swelling. But he still noticed that life in his smile. Gavin laughed and laid his head against the pillow. “I can’t believe you remembered what my favorite flower is. You’re such a sap, Ry.”

                “Yeah,” Ryan felt weightless, and he was sure that his voice reflected it well. “I guess I am.”

                He watched Gavin gently rub at the petals of the lilies, and then gently touch the petals of the forget-me-nots, and then back again. He seemed so transfixed on the flowers and for a second Ryan had forgotten about everything.

                Then the presence of Ray’s bed started to linger over him. Gavin didn’t know.  “Gav, uh… Ray. He-,”

                “Oh my god, is he okay?” The Brit started to sit up, his eyes as wide as they could be, fingers no longer touching the forgotten bouquet. Ryan just pushed a hand to his chest to lay him back down, moving the flowers to the side as he did so.

                “Yeah, he’s fine. But… He’s decided to leave the crew.”

                “Oh,” He settled back into the bed, frowning at the other. “Oh. Did he say why?” Gavin was whispering now, eyes darting around at the curtain and presumably what lay beyond it.

                “Said he’d been thinking about it for a while. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back, I guess.”

                “Is… He still here? Can I say bye?”

                His broken voice was even more cracked now, just barely teetering on the edge of crying. Ryan felt himself there too. He had been for a long while. “He’s asleep now. I’m sure he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

                It was quiet for a while then. And Gavin spent that time looking at Ryan, studying his face, trying to decipher what was going through his mind. And Ryan wished him a silent good luck, as not even he himself had a clue.

                 “Ryan,” He grabbed at Ryan’s hand and started to play with his fingers like he did when they laid in bed together after a long day. “I know you want to blame yourself for what happened to me. I still blame myself every day for some of the scars you have.”

                “You shouldn’t.”

                “And you shouldn’t either,” Gavin smiled. His lip had a large cut and bruise on his left side. Ryan was worried that if he smiled any bigger it would break open. “You’re not a monster, Ryan. You’re not even a bad guy. You make me feel safe.” He slowly brought Ryan’s hands up and closer to him, pressing a small kiss to his knuckles.

                And that was it. Ryan leaned over Gavin and cupped his face, kissing him softly. He could feel the smaller man wince beneath him, but after a moment he relaxed and kissed Ryan right back. A warm rush spread throughout Ryan’s chest, and he realized that it had been too long since he had last kissed Gavin. Too long since he last felt the honey in his veins. So sweet was Gavin’s kiss, even when he was beaten and bruised. When Ryan pulled back he could see a stupid grin across Gavin’s face.

                “You know,” He began, watching Ryan sink back into his seat. “I was still angry at you when I first got there,” He then paused, taking a moment to sort out his thoughts. It seemed like he was holding back, almost. Like there was some information he didn’t want Ryan to know yet. “I thought, ‘Well if I’m gonna get out of this I’ll do it myself’ and, uh, I guess we both see where that got me.” He chuckled, but it was less than sincere. Ryan didn’t chuckle with him.

                “I would’ve stopped at nothing to find you, Gavin.”

                “I know that.”

                They sat in silence after that. Ryan rubbed small circles into Gavin’s palm while he examined his arm. There was a big bandage encompassing nearly his entire forearm, and from Ryan’s position in the chair he could see that Gavin’s other arm had the same bandage. Then he took a sideways glance to the bedside table. Beside the bouquet he had brought sat a small 9mm handgun and a large serrated bowie knife. There was dried blood caked onto it, and he wondered why Trevor had decided to leave it there.

                He cleared his throat, then, almost nervous to ask the question that had been on his mind since they found them outside the burning building. “Gav, we uh… We found you in your boxers. And Ray too. What… What happened?”

                It seemed to take Gavin a moment to register what Ryan was trying to imply, but once he understood his eyes widened slightly and his hand gripped Ryan’s tighter. “They didn’t,” He shook his head near frantically. “Not to me at least. I mean, one of them threatened to, I guess, but he just stabbed me instead.”

                That whole sentence was wrong. So fucking wrong. That Gavin would say it so naturally, as though he was telling Ryan the most obvious fact in the world. Trying not to wind Gavin up, he decided that it would be best to store that away for later. When they found the crew. Gavin, so aware of all the little thoughts Ryan had, squeezed his hand again and smiled lightly.

                “I think you should go talk to Geoff now. We need to find the stragglers.”

                It was tough for him to go. Just as tough as it was for him to show up in the first place. But it was inevitable. He gave his partner a kiss on the forehead before pulling on his mask and leaving the medical bay, feeling a curious mixture of relief and fury.

~*~

                “Take a seat, Vagabond.”

                He did as he was told, which was something he never thought he’d be able to do. Yet this crew was deserving of his respect. Especially after all the years gone by. That reckless young boogeyman from Georgia would scoff at him now. Thankfully, though, Ryan couldn’t bring himself to care about that at the moment.

                Geoff was highlighting and circling areas on a map pinned to their bulletin board, but his eyes were glued to the laptop screen on the table. “They’re still on the move. Now, I wouldn’t put it past them to just chuck this phone into a random car to throw us off, but it’s the only lead we have.”

                He wondered who had sent the text. He remembered just barely drifting off into a light sleep before a was awoken by the sound of his phone ringing at top volume. For a moment his heart stuttered, instinctively thinking it to be Gavin, but Geoff’s name punched him in the gut instead.

                _“We got a message that we’re tracking,” He said, voice frantic. “We think one of them sent it from wherever they are and we’re close to getting a breakthrough. We’re at the lot, get here ASAP.” Then he hung up. And Ryan wasn’t sure he had moved faster in his entire life._

It was just him, Geoff, Jack, and Jeremy in the conference room. He didn’t quite know what time it was, but he could feel the exhaustion on his shoulders and knew that he couldn’t quite keep up fully with Geoff’s words. The older man kept asking for ideas as to what they should do when they found the other crew. Take them in for questioning? Use eye-for-eye tactics and torture them like they did to Ray and Gavin? Shoot them on sight? The Vagabond knew what he wanted, though. He wanted to tear them apart. He wanted to watch them gasp in horror before tearing their heads from their shoulders. He wanted to watch them choke on their own blood. He wanted to watch them suffer and scream and cry. But he would do that later, once he could actually feel his muscles and make his brain coherent once again. It wouldn’t take much; a night’s sleep next to Gavin, slowly drifting off at the rhythmic sound of the others breathing. He really wanted to go home.

                Jeremy threw around some ideas, and Jack bounced off of them every once in a while. But taking a glance around the room, Ryan clearly saw that no action was going to be taken until they got their ducks in a row. Jack looked fucking dead, Geoff was downing another cup of coffee that may as well have been connected to his veins in an IV drip, and Ryan was sure he wasn’t looking too hot himself, judging from what he was feeling on the inside.

It was then that Michael practically kicked down the conference room door. “They know about my fucking baby!”

                “What?” Geoff’s body was now turned fully towards the lad, whose face was red with anger.

                “Lindsay and I just talked to Gavin. He said that they know about the baby. I have no fucking idea how,” Geoff was next to him, clasping a hand around the back of the lad’s neck and pulling him closer. “We need to find these assholes, Geoff.”

                Geoff talked softly to Michael, reassuring him that they’d find them. Meanwhile Jack stood and rushed towards the door. “I’ll bring Lindsay and the baby to my house,” She put a hand on Michael’s shoulder, very close to the hand that Geoff still had on Michael. From his seat across the room Ryan could clearly see Michael shaking under their hands. “I’ll keep them safe there.”

                He nodded and brought Jack and Geoff in for a close hug.

                “We’ll message you once we find out more, Jack,” Geoff gestured for Michael to take a seat, which the latter promptly took. “Go, now.”

                Michael took a seat nearby Ryan, and when he caught the younger man’s gaze there was something strange about it. There was the typical anger, yes, but beyond that he seemed to look at Ryan in a way that left the other feeling strange. “Hey,” He said. “Gavin wants to see you.”

~*~

                When he entered the infirmary, he noticed how both Ray and Gavin’s curtains were drawn. They talked with one another, and it filled Ryan with a certain happiness to see Gavin smiling so much.

                “Look who it is,” Ray announced. But Ryan didn’t even spare him a glance. He instead just looked at Gavin, who was now turned to face Ryan and smiling sweetly at him. As he walked towards Gavin’s bed, however, he did turn to Ray and give a slight nod. “So are you selectively mute now?”

                “Ray,” The Brit frowned. “He’s nervous to speak to you lot. He’s been keepin’ quiet for so long. Ease up on him.”

                Ray just laughed and shook his head, reaching towards his phone and frowning when he realized he couldn’t pick it up. It was Gavin’s turn to laugh. “Joel’s gonna have to wipe your ass for weeks.”

                “Well Vagabond’s gonna have to carry you everywhere. Not that it’s probably any different than usual for you two.”

                Gavin squawked, and had it not been for the bruising on his face Ryan was sure he would’ve seen the Brit blushing something mad. He then crossed his arms and leaned his shoulders and head into Ryan’s stomach now that the gent was next to his bedside. “I hate that you guys all know. It was less annoying when you had no clue.”

                “You’re not exactly subtle.”

                Gavin’s arms were slinking around the part of Ryan’s arms that he could reach from his position on the bed. Ryan just stood still, watching from above as Gavin pressed closer to him. “I don’t know why you’d say that.”

                The two talked for a moment, then. It was casual, but Ryan could tell that Gavin was stalling. Clearly they had spoken about Ray’s leave before Ryan had arrived. The infirmary door opened once more, and Joel had walked in with an assistant trailing behind him. The assistant picked up Ray’s belongings from the side table and brought them out as Joel whispered to the younger man. He ticked Ryan off in a way he couldn’t describe. The mere presence of the CEO making Ryan’s blood boil slightly. Gavin tugged on Ryan’s jacket sleeve, seemingly sensing his mood shift.  

                “It’s okay,” He mouthed. But as the two in front of them were starting to gather themselves and make an exit, Gavin himself started to act not okay. “Ray!” He exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his bed. His hold on Ryan’s arm was released and suddenly he was reaching for the lad. But Ray was still near Joel, looking at Gavin with a sad smile.

                “Uh,” Gavin stuttered, hands returning to his bed. “Goodbye.”

                Ray gave a small goodbye to him before turning and leaving the infirmary.

                That was the last time Ryan saw Ray.

                Gavin’s hands found Ryan’s arms again, and soon he was trying to use Ryan to hoist himself up off of the bed. But quickly Ryan was pushing him back down onto the bed. “Please,” The lad groaned. “I just wanna go home.”

                He didn’t need Gavin to specify. Ryan knew to drive them both to his house. Far away from everybody else. Away from downtown, away from the lot, away from most of the thoughts that plagued them.

                He was heavier than Ryan had anticipated. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Gavin protested, obviously, to being bridal-carried to and from the car. Walking wasn’t an option, though, and the crew didn’t have any wheelchairs on hand after the “Lads Action Chair” incident. Ryan brought it up in the car after seeing how stoic the man next to him was, hoping that the story would cheer him up. Gavin chuckled at the memory, but soon quieted after telling Ryan how that had been Ray’s idea. His silence sat on Ryan’s shoulders. There was Gavin, who was upset not because of his tango with death less than a day ago, but rather because a friend had left him.

                The lad remained silent as Ryan carried him inside, and Ryan found himself uncomfortable at Gavin’s lack of protest at being carried. He hated to be carried. But he was quiet all the way to the bathroom, where Ryan set him on top of the toilet seat and started the bath beside them.

                “I hate baths,” He scrunched his nose up. After a second of Ryan not budging, Gavin huffed. “I can bathe myself.”

                Ryan took off his mask and jacket, kneeling down in front of Gavin so he could strip him of his clothes as well. “I know.”

                “Can we take a shower instead?” His hand moved to Ryan’s hair as the other started to plant small kisses on the bits of torso that were starting to become exposed. If he looked hard enough, he could make out the purple spots beneath his chest hair. He wondered what they had used to make those electrical marks. But he didn’t ask. Instead he focused on the question that Gavin had asked.

                “You can’t stand. You know that, Gav.”

                “Then I’ll lean on you.”

                He glanced up to Gavin from the floor and, even through his swollen eyes, saw clear desperation. He sighed. “I’m really not in the mood, Gavin.”

                “I don’t wanna shag, Ry,” He leant down and planted a gentle kiss onto the top of Ryan’s head. And, for some reason, Ryan felt like he was being knighted. His chest twisted and once more he looked up to Gavin. “Please.”

                He definitely had a few weak spots. There were simpler ones, like the weak spot he held for the crew. That one was easy to cover up. But his weak spot for Gavin? It was out in the open, ready to be exploited by none other than the Brit himself. As he pulled the knob to turn the shower on, though, he found himself not really caring too much about that part of him. He’d long since come to terms with the fact that Gavin had the first say in almost everything in his life by that point. And, seeing as his world nearly crashed and burned, he was fine to let Gavin have his way then.

                Their position was awkward, to say the least. But it wasn’t all that bad. Gavin was pressed against Ryan’s chest, arms around his neck and clinging onto him for dear life. He could feel how Gavin’s legs were limp beneath him. But it was fine. He enjoyed the steady breaths from Gavin and the way his eyes fluttered shut at both the feeling of the water on his face and also the contentment of being against Ryan. Ryan wondered if he’d ever stop getting butterflies around Gavin. If his stomach would always feel so flipped and mind would be so foggy. He tried to keep Gavin pressed close to his chest while grabbing the shampoo and pouring it into his palm, but doing it one-handed was pretty tricky. Gavin, however, seemed to notice his struggle and moved a hand to help him.

                “You know, this would’ve been a lot easier in the bath.”

                “I didn’t want to sit in blood water.”

                Fair point. Ryan shut his mouth and started to massage the shampoo into Gavin’s scalp, and the entire time he did so the lad seemed rather contemplative.

                “Ry,” He buried his head further into Ryan’s shoulder, and Ryan could feel his breathing starting to get shaky. “Do you think about the past a lot?”

                Think about it? He lives it most times. With the death and chaos and caring too goddamn much about people who can be taken away from him in a second. Not a day went by where he wasn’t completely wrapped up in a memory. A past place, a past life.

                He started to rinse the shampoo off Gavin’s hair and very quietly said that yes, he did think about the past.

                “How do you deal with it?”

                Ryan hummed for a second, and even though there was no longer shampoo in the lads hair, he still stroked the others hair carefully. “I don’t most of the time. I think about so many things… Memories that are hard to relive, but I can’t stop them from coming. It’s unbearable most times.” Gavin didn’t speak. Rather, he continued to breathe shakily into Ryan’s shoulder and wind his arms tighter around the larger man’s neck. “I wish I had an answer for you.”

                Gavin had told him that it was alright. That he could manage. But the plaintive face on Gavin told a different story.

                Seeing all of the grime and blood be washed off of Gavin was nice, he thought. It was at least a small step towards returning to their normalcy. And yet, he found himself wishing that he could wash off whatever was going on inside of his golden boy’s head.

                Gavin fell asleep almost immediately upon being put into the bed. Ryan, however, stayed awake for hours after. Watching silently as Gavin tossed and turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a song rec for the FAHC a while back. Here it is in case anyone was curious:
> 
> GAVIN  
> * Down With the Trumpets - Rizzie Kicks  
> * Paper Planes - M.I.A.  
> * Me And Michael - MGMT
> 
> GEOFF  
> * Stories We Build, Stories We Tell - José González  
> * California Dreamin’ (Single Version) - The Mamas & The Papas  
> * Bigmouth Strikes Again (2011 Remaster) - The Smiths
> 
> RYAN  
> * Broken Bones - KALEO  
> * Over Your Dead Body - Mister Monster  
> * In Cold Blood - alt-J
> 
> JEREMY  
> * BOOGIE - BROCKHAMPTON  
> * Delivering Tha Answer (Solid Club Version) - Brothers on Organised Missions  
> * Shook Ones Pt. II - Mobb Deep
> 
> JACK  
> * It’s My Life - No Doubt  
> * Seven Rules - Metric  
> * If You Want - Reptalians 
> 
> MICHAEL  
> * When You Die - MGMT  
> * 2nd Hand - $uicideBoy$  
> * The Kids Aren’t Alright - The Offspring
> 
> (However, a song that I think fits this specific fic is Something Good by alt-j. I actually listen to that song a lot when writing for this fic.)


	7. CHAPTER 7- GAVIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's funny is that I had ideas for this fic and its ending long before Cow Chop announced that they were coming to an end. I absolutely adore Cow Chop, and in no way do I think that they're like evil irl, but I do like the idea that they'd be this fucking crazy villainous gang in this universe. But anyway! This is the end of this fic! I've put so much time into this one and I hope that you all enjoy it! Thank you so much for reading!

                The night had brought upon him painful memories. Not like that was surprising. He knew that he was bound to have nightmares, but he also knew that he needed the sleep. It was unavoidable.

                When he awoke, it was many hours later than he thought it would be. The last he had checked, it had been only three or four in the afternoon. The bright red digital numbers on the clock sitting on top of the bedside table showed that it was a bit past seven in the morning. He supposed he needed the sleep. His head was pounding, however, which seemed to be a constant whenever he overslept. Yet the glaring pain in his arms and thigh were quite different than anything he had experienced before. Whatever pain medication Trevor had given him was long gone from his system, and he found himself craving something- anything- to make the pain go away. He didn’t care what it was. So long as it stopped the never ending feeling of being stabbed. Over. And over. The bowie knife could’ve still been embedded in Gavin’s forearms and he wouldn’t have been surprised.

                He tried to shit his focus to the light that came in through Ryan’s translucent white curtains. That was one of his favorite things about Ryan’s room. How the window always seemed to draw light into it. In his apartment, the way it was positioned in the west of the building, his windows only drew in that kind of light during the afternoon. But Ryan’s bedroom window was perfect. His home was perfect.

                He turned his head to look to Ryan himself, and found the other wide awake. “Sorry,” Gavin croaked.

                “For what?”

                “I woke you up, didn’t I?”

                “No, no. Well, maybe.” Ryan’s eyes scrunched up whenever he laughed, and this time was no exception. His muted laughter shook the bed slightly, and Gavin found himself smiling with him despite the pain.

                They were quiet for a while after that. Both melting into one another and breathing slowly in sync. He found it a lot easier to not think of anything when he was around Ryan. Or, at least, it was easier to not think about the bad things. Instead he could focus on how pale Ryan’s exposed skin was. How there were light scars here and there, littered about his skin. He liked the scattered freckles more, though. They looked like constellations in some places.

                Idly he started to trace the lines between his freckles, which was a fairly normal action. So normal, in fact, that Ryan didn’t flinch or look twice at the touch. His eyes just stayed shut and he relaxed his muscles under Gavin’s careful fingers.

                Both jumped when the phone rang.

                It was strange, Gavin thought, that it wasn’t on vibrate. Ryan always had his phone on vibrate. He didn’t have time to ask why it wasn’t though, because within a second Ryan was sitting up in bed and listening to whoever was on the bed.

                There was a muffled voice, and Gavin couldn’t quite make out who it was. At their words Ryan was properly getting himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Fine, I can talk,” He grumbled. More muffled talking, and had Gavin not been so thoroughly weighed down by his injuries he would’ve already been right by Ryan’s side listening in.

                “When?”

                His eyes flicked to Ryan’s shoulders, the muscles of which were bunching up and tensing more and more each second.

                “No, he’s fine. Gimme forty-five minutes, I’ll be there.” There was more brief talking and then Ryan was hanging up, slamming the phone down onto the side table and lifting himself off of the bed.

                “What’s going on, Ryan?”

                “Geoff received another message from the same number that sent the gibberish text,” Oh, so they got that then. “They’re having a better time tracking it now and want us to come in and talk strategy.”

                Us. He wondered what that implied. Surely Ryan had meant that Geoff wanted the both of them there, right? After all, Gavin did spend the most time with Cow Chop. He knew their capabilities better than any of the other Fakes.  

                He had to mentally prepare himself to move before he actually did so. But eventually Gavin mustered up enough energy to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He already felt the burning in his left thigh. His feet didn’t even touch the ground yet, but he knew that he’d be having trouble there as well.

                “Where do you think you’re going?”

                Gavin paused, sinking back down onto the bed and twisting his torso so that he could look at Ryan behind him. He seemed genuinely confused, staring at Gavin with his head tilted and eyebrows furrowed.

                “I’m… Going to the lot? You said he wanted us there?”

                “I… I didn’t say that.”

                “Yes, you did.”

                He was starting to look more and more frustrated. His arms crossing harder and eyes narrowing. “Well, then I meant us as in the rest of the crew, Gavin. You obviously can’t come.”

                “What? And why not?! I have to go!”

                “No,” Ryan shook his head, coming closer towards the bed and swiping a shirt up from off the floor. “I may have relented on the shower but you’re not coming with me to the lot. You’re in no condition to.”

                He laughed; a quick bark that seemed so out of place within the tension of the room. At his laugh Ryan’s jaw clenched hard, and Gavin could tell that whatever was happening was only going to escalate. But he was too upset to stop himself. “Last time I checked I wasn’t put on bed rest. I’m going.” He then tried to collect himself and bring his body up off the bed, but Ryan was quick in his steps towards him, pressing a firm hand on the middle of Gavin’s chest. He didn’t push, but he was daringly close.

                “I’m. Going.” Gavin growled through gritted teeth. He could feel a familiar anger rise inside of him.

                “You’re. Not.”

                Gavin gripped Ryan’s wrist tight, ripping it away from his chest. From this action Ryan’s eyes widened, but he seemed to only be becoming more agitated by Gavin’s defiance. Yet Gavin stood his ground, staring up at Ryan with a matched frustration. “I want to kill them. I want to be there when they die and I want to make sure that they’re gone for good. You’re not stopping me.”

                “Fine,” Ryan stood up straight, backing up towards the wall and crossing his arms. “Stand up.”

                “Fine,” He hissed back, bracing his hands on the mattress. His forearms screamed at him from the pressure, and after a quick glance he saw that the once white bandages had patches of red blotting through. But he ignored it, ignored the pain, ignored Ryan’s harsh staring, and hoisted himself up off of the bed. He could feel himself start to wobble. Without thinking his hand shot out to grab at the bedpost, and he leaned his weight into it. Anything to get him off his feet. He couldn’t give Ryan the satisfaction of giving up, though.

                However, it seemed Ryan was as determined as Gavin was. “No help,” Ryan shoved Gavin’s hand away from the bedpost.

                Fine. No bedpost. Gavin steadied himself after teetering slightly, and his feet felt like they were collapsing under his weight, but he stood. He stood and held his hands out to Ryan in a gesture that screamed _what next?_ But he didn’t feel accomplished liked he thought he would’ve. He looked at Ryan’s stern features and felt as far away from pride as he could possibly be.

                “Walk.”

                Gavin ducked his head, peering down at his bandaged feet and swallowing hard. There was a frog in his throat now. It was hard to breathe. Especially when he shifted his weight and tried his best to take a step forward. Just a single step. It’d be easier after that, surely it would. And yet there was a tipping point; too much weight was applied to his foot, and his legs gave out from under him. He had used his arms to brace his fall, but that turned out to be a painfully awful idea. He could feel the stitched gashes in his forearms strain and pull and burn, and a scream was tearing through him. A jolt of fear surged through him, and for some reason his mind put his body right back in that room. Right back in that chair.

                He glanced up to Ryan, who was now looking down onto him with a softer gaze. His eyes closed slowly and he shook his head, crouching down next to Gavin.

                “You can’t come.”

                He was crying. He didn’t even know when he started. But he could feel the tears on his cheeks and he could feel Ryan’s hand on his face, trying to wipe the tears away. But he was still mad. Mad and embarrassed and still stuck on the images of the knife tearing deep into the flesh of his arms. Moving his arm was too painful, so instead of pushing Ryan away like he wanted to, he tore his face from Ryan’s hand as hard as he could.

                “I’m sorry, Gavin,” Ryan tried to pick him up, wrapping his strong arms around Gavin’s torso, but the other shook his head and told him through tears to fuck off. With a sigh Ryan stood up. “I’ll be back later, okay?”

                He was still on the floor when Ryan got himself dressed and eventually left the house. And he was still on the floor for hours after that.

                The light that flowed into the room was nice. It felt warm against Gavin’s back. He didn’t know how, but he found himself drifting off, still laying on the floor, peering out at the sky from his angle beneath the window. Pain still pulsated throughout his body, especially his sore feet and aching forearms. But still, his eyes were drooping shut, and the promise of sleep was a much sweeter outcome than lying on the floor in agony.

                He didn’t remember the nightmare. He remembered the feeling, the colors, and the sounds. Searing, white-hot pain and another heat that surrounded his whole body and swallowed him whole. Sweaty and shaking and he couldn’t breathe.

                It had to have been a few hours later when Gavin woke up. He was still lying supine on the ground beneath the window, but his body ached harder than before. His head was pounding harder than before, too. Full body shivers overcame him, despite it being a relatively sunny day outside. Laying half-naked on the floor in January made him feel like a corpse. He probably looked like a corpse too. He would kill for something. A drink, some drugs, anything. Something to numb his body and soul. His eyes shot open as a sudden realization struck him.

                Oxy.

                Ryan kept oxy under his bathroom sink.

                His head turned towards the bathroom, recalling a time months back when Ryan nearly broke his arm. He had told Gavin that he kept copious amounts of medication under his sink, including oxycodone. Personally, he tried to stay away from the stuff. Ever since Michael nearly got addicted to it, he feared that his will was too weak to kick a dependence like that. But it seemed to work like magic for everybody in the crew that he had seen take it, and it would probably work like magic for him, too. He knew that it was strong, and he knew that it would stop all the pain. It was second only to actual injected morphine, he was told.

                Dragging himself was out of the question. No way would his forearms be strong enough to pull his whole body, not to mention the carpet probably tearing off the bandage on his thigh as he tried.

                But he needed it. He needed at least some kind of pain killer to numb the pain. And then… Maybe, just maybe, he’d feel well enough to drag himself to the lot and help out. Find the last of those bastards and wipe them out. And the crew would see how strong he was. They’d see how strong and capable he was and then they’d have to let him stay.

Right?

                He hoisted himself up off of the ground using the bedframe, feeling the action pull more at the stitches on his forearms. But he was up. On his shins, facing towards the bathroom, thirty feet away at most. He could do it.

                Shuffling across the ground definitely gave him carpet burn, but it was fine. It was fine because eventually he did reach the bathroom, plopping down onto his butt in order to rummage around the bottom cabinet of the sink and find the med kit. He found it, and briefly he thought about changing his bandages, but that didn’t matter at the moment. What mattered was getting the pain to go away and then marching his ass to the lot.

                When he got the pills in his hand, though, he hesitated. What were the repercussions of taking this? He’d never taken oxy before- how high would he get? How long would it take? How long would it last?

                He popped one in his mouth anyway, completely disregarding the questions that floated around in his mind.

                It wasn’t immediate. In fact, it took close to half an hour before he started to feel anything. But it came like a fog at sea; slow and rolling and hazy. There was a bird in his chest and it fluttered around so much, but it sang such a sweet song. There was a smile on his face and for the first time in a long time nothing hurt. Everything was good, so fucking good, and he nearly cried from how perfect it all felt.

                There was no time to delay, though. He got up (holy shit he could stand), and made his way towards the bedroom. Why were so many of his outfits already at Ryan’s place? No matter. No time to think. Get dressed.

                As he made his way out of the bedroom he nearly grabbed the pair of keys in the wooden bowl on the kitchen counter, but then decided that he would definitely not have the cognitive ability to drive. He thought about maybe ordering an Über, but what if they remembered where Ryan’s house was? What if they wondered why there was nobody else in the neighborhood? Wait, why was there nobody else in the neighborhood? That’s not what he should be focusing on.

                He grabbed his phone and put on his shoes and then took the keyring for the car anyway. After locking the front door behind him he set off towards the busy part of the city with the intent to hail a cab.

                There was a point, though, while he was walking down the street where he thought that everybody knew he was high. Any passerby’s glance at him felt like they were seeing right through him. Was he swaying? Did he look loopy? He knew that he felt it. Although the pain was gone, the world was slightly fuzzy, and he was sure that he was acting sus.

                Although he did try his best to act casual. He waited patiently on the sidewalk until he saw a cab and then he hailed it. Calmly told the driver the address of the lot, and then spent the whole drive trying to ride out his high.

~*~

                He thanked the driver quietly before getting out. It was wobbly when he exited, but unlike before it wasn’t from the pain, which Gavin was grateful for. Trevor had given him some kind of pain medication, but this was the first time since he had left the lot the day before where he wasn’t in any pain. He hoped that when he spoke with the crew, they would notice how well he was doing.

                Or would they notice that he was high?

                Regardless, he made his way through the front door, noticing how there was nobody at reception. He supposed that they had given Matt the day, since he and Trevor and the other one had spent so long patching him and Ray up. He’d have to remember to thank Matt for that.

                The walls were thin there, so it didn’t surprise him that he heard their muffled talking the closer he got to the conference room. More than once he had eavesdropped on his coworkers (it was a bad habit, and he knew that, but he was too nosey to stop himself), and he was sure that he had probably been overheard his fair share as well. But he didn’t feel particularly bad when he pressed his back up against the wall near the door and leaned in close in order to hear the crew.

                It was faint, and he didn’t hear all of it, but he could tell that they were discussing the crew. Piecing together information that they had gathered. The ones they knew died, the ones they knew were from the other crew, and the location of the place Gavin and Ray were found. Gavin himself was running through what he knew in his mind, as well as what he might say when he entered. He had it, though, when he heard one of them say, “There’s six left then, right? Six or seven?”

                They didn’t know that Gavin had killed people. He totally forgot to tell them, and he was sure that Ray didn’t tell them either; at least not the full extent, because Ray hadn’t seen the first guy go down.

                The first one. When Gavin slashed his throat apart so much it was nothing but a few tendons and bone by the end. His jaw clenched at the memory and he was thankful when he was able to keep from gagging.

                Turning his body and opened the door, Gavin tried his hardest to be as aloof and nonchalant as possible. The sound of the door creaking tore through the silent room, and whatever small talking had taken place before his entrance was completely gone now. He tried hard not to notice the stares that his presence gathered. “There’s four left, actually.”

                There was a shocked silence in the room, and now that he actually looked at their faces he saw how most of them were left stunned, save the Vagabond, who sat in a wide-eyed fury behind his mask. Gavin walked around the front of the table, heading towards an empty chair. But before he even made it all the way around, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing at the Vagabond and saying casually, “Go fuck yourself, by the way.”

                He briefly noticed the Vagabond’s hands shoot into the air in exasperation, but the lad quickly turned his attention towards Geoff. The kingpin seemed just about as stunned as the rest of them. Yet there was an underlying worry in his features.

                “Gavin, what the fuck are you doing here?”

                In the hopes that everyone would just magically forget about the state of his body and mind, he continued with his earlier thought. “The girl told Ray and I that there were twelve in the group,” He glanced down at his hands and started to mindlessly touch the edges of the bandage on his forearms. “That one night all around town we killed five total. Seven were left after that. When I… Well, I killed three of them when I was there. There’s four left.”

                “And you’re sure you saw the three of them go down?” Michael was staring at him from across the table, now the only member of the group who wasn’t questioning Gavin’s presence. Gavin was grateful for that.

                But before he could answer and move the whole thing along like he wanted to, Geoff’s hand was coming down onto the table. “No, no, no. Gavin, what the fuck?”

                “What?”

                “You shouldn’t fucking be here!”

                “And why not?! I’ve got a right to be here!”

                “Gavin,” Geoff’s eyes screwed shut and he kneeled down onto the floor in order to get eye-level with the Brit. “You nearly died. You look and sound fucking terrible. I don’t even know how you’re walking around.”

                “I took some oxy and now I’m fine,”

                Geoff’s eyes widened more and his hands came up to pull at his eyebrows in disbelief. “Where the fuck did you get oxy?!” At the same time, Gavin could very faintly hear Jeremy’s voice fill with concern as he asked if Gavin had driven himself there.

                He was close. So close to saying Ryan’s name. Saying that he had found the oxycodone under Ryan’s sink. Saying that he had walked from Ryan’s house to a busy street so that he could call a cab. He could feel the Vagabond’s presence behind him, staring him down with millions of daggers. He settled on telling Geoff that he had some just laying around his own apartment. The older man obviously didn’t believe him, but instead of arguing further he just sighed and got back up, and Gavin could hear his knees pop and crack as he rose.

                “Look, the longer we talk about me the longer we go off track. We need a game plan.”

                “You need to go home,” Jack suddenly called from behind him. As she rested her hand on his shoulder he could feel her slight worried grip.

                But he didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to sit around while his team did all the heavy lifting. And, more importantly, he didn’t want to miss the fun part. The part where he could rip those people apart and leave them to die slowly and painfully in the middle of nowhere. Nobody would know where they went. Nobody would care.

                Then a flash of that room. Of that man, leaning over him, telling him that his crew probably didn’t even care that he was gone.

                Suddenly he was yanked back to reality when he heard a slam on the table. Sure enough, the Vagabond was right in his field of view, hand snatching Gavin’s bicep and wrenching him upwards. Gavin protested the whole way, shouting at the Vagabond to let him go.

                The sound of a gun cocking pierced the room. A quick glance over showed Michael aiming his gun at the Vagabond. “Let him the fuck go.”

                Another gun cocking.

                “Michael, Jeremy, put your guns down,” Jack’s voice was steady as Jeremy rose his gun to Michael.

                They all argued back and forth, but Gavin remained silent. He and the Vagabond were in an intense stare-down that rivaled even the most famous old west movies. No way he was going to fucking budge.

                It wasn’t until Geoff’s voice boomed over the commotion that they all stopped. Michael, Jeremy, and at that point Jack herself had their guns out. The sight would’ve made Gavin laugh had he not been so frustrated.

                “That’s enough,” He turned his attention to Gavin and the Vagabond, the latter of whom was still holding Gavin’s arm in a vice grip. “Let him go. What the fuck is going on between you two?”

                “That’s hardly any of your business,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his arm and feeling the Vagabond release his hold. But he still lingered, most likely staring Geoff down at that point.

                But the older man remained solid in his demeanor. “It’s obviously our business if you’re bringing it into work with you,” His teeth gritted and his eyes screwed shut, his voice now coming out lower than before. “I swear to God, Vagabond, if you put your hands on him like that when we’re not around, and if you’re where he’s getting drugs, you’re gonna have half a dozen mobsters ripping you in two.”

                Gavin didn’t doubt his kingpin’s threat. Which was what made him suddenly nervous. Was this how the rest of them saw the Vagabond? Right. Obviously, they did. They’d never met Ryan. The man who was so gentle and calm towards Gavin in the quietness of their alone time. God dammit. Regardless of his frustration towards the man, he knew that Ryan didn’t actually deserve it. He felt his anger fading  and before he knew it he was sighing and stepping towards Geoff. “No, he’s fine. He… As mad as I am at him right now, he’s… He’s only trying to help me.”

                “Oh, sorry, is getting you addicted to oxy considered helping?”

                He groaned, rolling his eyes as he collapsed back into the chair. His feet were starting to really hurt. Part of his brain was telling him that maybe being addicted to oxycodone wasn’t the worst thing in the world, so long as he didn’t feel the never-ending ache in his body anymore. “I’m hardly addicted, Geoff; I took one pill, and in his defense, I did steal it.”

                The Vagabond’s arms shot back up into the air, gesturing incredulously at Gavin while he looked to Geoff.

                “Alright,” Geoff’s tattooed hands came up to rub at his face, then pinch at the bridge of his nose while he collected his thoughts. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two-,”

                “They’re close, apparently,” Michael’s voice dripped with an unresolved anger.

                Gavin shot him a look, hissing, “I told you that in confidence, Michael.”

                “You told me that drunk, Gavin!” Michael’s yelling turned into a bitter laugh when he turned to meet Geoff’s glare. “Oh, but here’s the kicker: This has been going on since the City Hall heist!”

                Jack and Geoff both asked a small, “What?” at the same time. But Gavin was more focused on Ryan’s response, which was more puzzled than anything.

                “No it hasn’t.”

                He whipped around to meet the Vagabond’s eyes. “What do you mean, ‘no it hasn’t’?”

                The room was still after that. Everyone looked around at one another, and more specifically at Gavin and the Vagabond. Even Michael’s once heated expression was now teetering on an annoyed confusion. The pressing eyes were suddenly starting to make Gavin feel wildly uncomfortable, though. This wasn’t the place to talk about their problems, nor was it the place to actually define what they were.

                His body suddenly felt tired, and his shoulders were starting to feel very heavy. He didn’t make eye contact with anybody, but he could still feel their eyes on him.  Although he really wanted to stand his ground and defend his right to be there, he also didn’t want Ryan taking the brunt of the anger and stress of everyone else. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve come here, and we shouldn’t be talking about this.”

                “Well you’re right about that,” Geoff was back in his field of view, crouching down and looking up into Gavin’s eyes. “But, Gavin, the reason we don’t want you here is because you’re seriously hurt. Not because we think you’re incapable.”

                After not responding, Geoff had turned towards the Vagabond to say something. Gavin didn’t hear. He could still feel eyes burning behind his back. Part of him regretted telling everybody about him and Ryan. But, in reality, it was his fault, wasn’t it? It was his inability to stay put and keep things private. He couldn’t have just stayed in the bed and waited for Ryan to get home. Something in his chest sunk, and soon he was feeling more and more tired and more and more sore. He picked idly at the edges of his bandages while he waited for Geoff to finish talking to Ryan.

                Ryan’s hand found Gavin’s back, coaxing him up slowly. Despite himself he wobbled once he was on his feet, and the aching was becoming more prominent the longer he was standing. Nobody said goodbye to him or Ryan as they left.

                It was still bright outside, the sun in the air but reaching sunset soon. He still felt cold, though, even though the sun was shining down onto him. Maybe it was because he wasn’t wearing a jacket. Yeah, that was it.

                He glanced at Ryan, but his mask was still on. He should apologize. Ryan deserved an apology. And yet, it didn’t come out. His words remained caught in his throat as they got into the car and rode back to Ryan’s house. And for some wild reason Gavin got the impression that Ryan was upset with him. Which, to no surprise or argument, was justified. Even Gavin himself understood that he was being unreasonable. Childish. Loud. Embarrassing.

                Maybe they wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t come out of that building.

                It was so hot in there. Its heat still fresh on Gavin’s mind. It was like he was there again, back inside of the warehouse with its walls and ceiling collapsing around him and Ray. As his feet burned beneath him and forearms bled past their staples, which were already torn apart due to the recoil of his gun. It hurt so fucking bad.

                “Hey,” Ryan’s voice was quiet, maybe the slightest bit afraid to interrupt the silence between them. Gavin hadn’t realized that he’d been picking at his bandages until Ryan placed his right hand on Gavin’s own. “We’ll change them when we get back to the house.”

                Gavin didn’t respond. Whether it was because he didn’t want to or didn’t think he would be physically able to was beyond him. Trying to figure out what was even wrong with him was too much at that point. Even if his body was physically capable, would he mentally be able to handle the current situation?

                Ryan let out a short laugh, but it was forced. Uncomfortable. Why would it be anything else, though? “Did you hear what Geoff said?” Gavin shook his head. “He said that once everything calmed down we needed to meet with him and tell him what’s going on. He sounded like a dad, almost.”

                “Ryan…” His voice sounded so quiet. Still scratchy after what it had been through. And yet, it somehow sounded worse than it had been a mere ten minutes prior. “Do we even know what’s going on?”

                “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                “When Michael said that we’ve been close since the City Hall heist, you said no,” Ryan had started to talk for a moment, but Gavin wasn’t finished. And he was starting to become annoyed again. His tone went harsh as he continued to glare at his shoes. “What’s this all been then? What even are we?”

                “Gavin,” Ryan’s focus flicked between traffic and the man in the passenger seat. But even out of the corner of his eye Gavin could clearly make out the hurt expression on the older man’s face. “I didn’t mean it like that. It wasn’t until weeks after that heist that I actually mustered up enough courage to do something. And it wasn’t until weeks after that when things started to get serious.”

                “What does serious even mean, Ryan?! When I started coming over more? The first time we had sex? How do we pinpoint something that we’ve never even spoken about?!”

                Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but no sound escaped. It was all caught inside, whatever it was he was thinking. It wasn’t like Gavin felt any different. He was embarrassed by his actions and upset by everything going on. Any thought that came from him was born from a bad place.

                Truth be told, he didn’t want to be talking about any of it. He was fine just assuming that they were dating (they’d been out on actual real dates many times, but even then, they never made a point to actually call them dates), and he was fine not putting any labels onto it. It was as though there were unspoken rules between he and Ryan. They didn’t talk about what they were, they didn’t make their private life public, and they didn’t say I love you. And yet, these rules were being broken one after another in just a short span of time. All except one, that is.

                They said “I love you” in different ways, though. Whenever Ryan would initiate a call and tell Gavin that he missed his voice. Whenever Gavin would hound Ryan over and over again about not forgetting his bullet proof vest on heists. It was there in good nights, in good mornings, and in simple I miss you’s. But the thought of actually saying that he loved Ryan seemed scary. It was a nail in the coffin. Once their love was vocalized, they would be too far down the rabbit hole to ever leave. But, then again, was it already too far and Gavin was just denying it?

                He thought about when Ryan had come over to his apartment after the City Hall heist, when Gavin was hungover from a long night of drinking and denial. _But as it stands now, if I died tomorrow, would you feel just as bad?_ He had said. Yes, he would have. He would have back then, and he would have right then. In fact, he was willing to bet he’d feel even worse. And he knew it was getting more and more serious each second he was around Ryan.

                Of course, he didn’t say any of that though. They sat in a tensed silence for the duration of the car ride, and they sat in that same silence when they arrived too.

                When he tried to exit the car, he could feel the way his weight crushed the raw flesh of his feet. How the bandages didn’t protect him or cushion him or make standing any easier. Instantly he toppled over, knees crashing into the asphalt. Thank God he didn’t land on his forearms again, though.

                Ryan was beside him not a second after he fell, grabbing his elbow and hoisting him up. “I can walk,” Gavin tried pushing him away, but Ryan was too strong.

                “I know you’re mad at me for making you stay here,” Ryan swooped Gavin up into his arms, and subconsciously Gavin leaned into his chest. Despite how badly he wanted to stay mad, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. “But you’re gonna die if you keep exerting yourself like this. Especially if you keep falling like that. You’re gonna accidentally reopen a wound. God forbid you get an infection.”

                He talked like that for a while. Going on about keeping his wounds clean and especially keeping himself off of his feet. Gavin felt so distant, though. His body felt miles away, despite being pressed right up against Ryan’s chest.

                He was dropped into the bed, and after a second Ryan left to go grab medical supplies from the bathroom. But the only thing Gavin could think of was how bed rest was a death sentence. Doomed to lay and wallow and deal with all of the horrible thoughts and memories. It was a nightmare.

                “How long ago did you take the oxy?” Ryan called from the bathroom.

                “I dunno… A couple hours?”

                He heard Ryan sigh, and then he heard some medicine bottles rattling around. “There are two time releases with oxy; one initially and then one several hours later. You’ll just have to wait for the second one at some point, but I can give you some small painkillers for right now.”

                Ryan was soon by his side again, mask nowhere in sight but other Vagabond attire still on. He offered Gavin a few pills and a bottle of water. As he took them he gave a small thank you, so small that it might not have even been there at all. He rolled the pills around in the palm of his hand, unsure of what they were, exactly, but if Ryan was giving it to him it was probably gonna help.

                Ryan was busy changing the bandage on Gavin’s leg while the other took his pills. Carefully peeling away the old surgical tape. It caught on Gavin’s leg hair, making him flinch. He wished he could tell Ryan to just rip it off all at once like a band-aid. It would hurt, but it would hurt less than the excruciating slow pull of the tape.

                Once it was finally off, Ryan went in to clean the dried blood around it. The wound itself was fuckling gnarly. Definitely the worst scar Gavin would have on his body by far. It wasn’t often that he wore shorts in the past, but he knew that he wouldn’t have that luxury anymore. It was too deep, too long, too obvious. He had plunged the bowie knife so far into Gavin’s thigh that it nearly went all the way through, he was told. Gunshot wounds were fine to him. They were small enough to cover up most times. But these new scars, they were unlike anything else on him. They were going to look so stark against his tanned skin. He’d need to wear long sleeves to hide the marks.

                Briefly his stomach churned when Ryan went to change the bandages on his forearms. Instinctively he wanted to stop the other, to not let him see underneath the bandages. And Ryan saw this mood shift. He saw the way Gavin flinched ever so slightly when his hands first touched his forearm.

                “Does it hurt?” His eyes lingered on Gavin’s, watching closely for any signs of further discomfort. Slowly he reached out once more to take the bandage off, and Gavin forced himself to not move. Ryan’s eyes flicked back down to the wound, making sure to wipe carefully around it much like he had done with the stitches on his thigh.

                It was quiet for a long time between them. Every once in a while there would be a slight grunt or sigh from Gavin if Ryan pressed down too hard. But mostly they sat inches apart, thinking so much but saying nothing. Even if they wanted to. Gavin wanted to, at least. He wanted to say so much to Ryan. Apologize for his actions, talk about how frustrated he was about how it seemed like everyone doubted him and his abilities, or maybe even just tell him a joke to see him smile. But the only thing he said was a quiet “Thank you,” After Ryan had finished changing his bandages.

                Ryan hesitated getting up, and Gavin could see it easily. He followed Ryan’s hand, which twitched and inched slowly towards Gavin’s own. “Gavin, I…” He said carefully as he finally put his hand on Gavin’s own. It was so warm. “I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

                Funny. He thought for a moment that Ryan was going to say it.

                “I know, Ry. And I-,” And again, funny. He almost said it himself. But instead he chuckled breathily. “I’m sorry for bein’ such a prick.”

                “It’s okay,” Ryan laughed, grabbing his hand just the slightest bit harder and leaning in close so that he could press their foreheads together. Gavin could feel Ryan’s breath on his face. It made his eyelids flutter shut. He’d nearly forgotten how good it felt to have Ryan so close. Did he always smell so nice? Like soap and shampoo and his old cologne that made Gavin dizzy if he sprayed too much. But it was perfect just like that.

                He wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss, but he was thankful for whoever did. It was slow, and so, so nice. It still stung, sure, since Gavin’s lip had been busted open and sore for over a day at that point. But he didn’t care so long as Ryan continued to kiss him softly. Gavin could’ve sworn that there was something behind the kiss, though. Words and feelings that were normally kept down being swallowed right up by one another. It was fine, so long as it remained between their lips.

                A hand found the nape of his neck and sent a shiver right down his spine. He wanted to badly to just keep close to Ryan, to keep kissing him until he couldn’t breathe anymore, to forget about everything. But the others phone was buzzing, and Gavin knew that there were important matters to attend to. Matters that he so desperately wanted to be there for. But he’d caused enough trouble as is.

                Ryan’s forehead was against his once more, the hand at the back of his neck tightening just the slightest. “I’ll be back later, okay?” He laughed once more, nearly genuine. “And don’t follow me this time.”

                Before Ryan could leave, however, Gavin had grabbed at his jacket sleeve. “Ryan,” He said. “Please, don’t kill them without me.”

                “We might not have a choice.”

                “I’m begging you.”

                He seemed genuinely remorseful. As though he really wanted to cave and let Gavin have his way. Gavin knew his resolve was too strong, though. He moved Gavin’s hand away from his jacket sleeve and sighed. “I’m making no promises, Gavin. But once I get home I’ll let you know if we’ve made any headway on arranging a meeting with them, alright?”

                Gavin nodded, his hope of getting to kill them dwindling. He accepted the small kiss on the top of his head and watched as Ryan put his mask back on and left the room. Not long after that he heard the front door close and lock, echoing throughout the empty house.  

                There wasn’t much he could do to keep his mind off of things. He had tried watching videos, but couldn’t focus on the content. He had tried playing phone games, but his mind kept wandering. The second wave of relief from the oxy came and went, leaving him feeling slightly drowsy but still awake. Any singular thought he had transformed itself into recollections of that place, that room, those people, and he found that those shards of memory sunk themselves into his wounds and reignited the pain.

                This had never happened before, shockingly. He supposed that he should consider himself lucky. He knew that many of his friends dealt with guilt and nightmares and repressed memories. He always considered the danger fun, though. Never was he kept up at night by the explosions or murder. (Although, he did have nightmares and frequent panic attacks about times when he had put his friends in danger. But that was different, he rationalized.) Luck ran out sooner or later, though. It always did. And there would be a point where his luck with living would run out as well. It was unavoidable. But would he die by the hand of an enemy, or something more natural?

_You’re probably the disposable one._

                His eyes twisted shut, and he could feel his breathing start to pick up and become shaky. It was tight, like his diaphragm was being ripped two, and the more he tried to regulate his breathing the worse it became. There wasn’t enough oxygen getting to his brain, to his lungs, and every inhale was too much yet somehow not nearly enough.

                Having panic attacks sucked. Every time it happened it didn’t get easier. It still felt like he was going to die, even though the rational part of his brain knew he wouldn’t. When he was alone it was much less embarrassing, though. When he was single, in his apartment in the dead of night, waken up from a bad dream, he could cry and hyperventilate by himself. But now that he was with Ryan, there were times that he would wake up and start to panic, desperately trying to reach the bathroom before he woke the other up. Most times Ryan would awake and be by Gavin’s side, trying to help. As awkward as it was, Gavin knew that Ryan was just trying to help.

                He’d calmed down eventually. It took an hour, but at that point his body felt too exhausted to panic anymore. Although, he wasn’t tired. He couldn’t sleep. He didn’t particularly want to, either. Yet there was nothing to do. He couldn’t get up, because his feet hurt like hell, and because if Ryan walked in on him up and about he would definitely say no to Gavin coming along.

                Normally, when he was left bored, he’d incessantly text his friends. Due to recent events, however, he assumed this option to be off the table. So he just had to wait for Ryan to get home.

                Wait.

                And wait.

                And by the time he had thought it to be hours later, in reality it had only been mere minutes.

                He thought back to the room. How they had made him wait in between his session of torture. Left him alone in the poorly ventilated room to mingle in the scent of burning flesh and blood. How they had left him alone to wallow and cry and bleed. He wondered, if they had been given the chance to, would their final act on him be while he was alive? Would he have gone out during some grandiose final torture? Or, maybe, would they have left him to bleed out? Alone. Silent. His life fading slowly from him while he thought of all the people who he loved.

                He wondered what Ryan would have done. From bits and pieces that Ryan had told him in passing, he knew that Ryan had a wife in the past. He also knew that Ryan didn’t like to talk about her, so he never pressed for more information. But it wasn’t a secret that Ryan had suffered a long time alone without her. So, Gavin thought, would Ryan have reacted the same way if Gavin were to have died in their hands?

                A small, bitter chuckle escaped him. He and Ryan weren’t married. They hadn’t even been together a year. And Ryan had already lost so many. Would Gavin’s death really affect him that much?

_You’re probably the disposable one._

                Psychological torture. That was the worst thing they did to him. He’d take the bowie knife over the waiting and the idea that he could and would be chucked aside by the group at any point.

                It was dark outside by the time Gavin had next glanced out the window. The sun had long descended, but the moon had yet to be in the right position for its reflected light to show in the bedroom. So it was incredibly dark. So dark that it was hard to distinguish when his eyes were closed and when they were open.

                He didn’t want to go to sleep. He still wasn’t tired anyway. He’d much rather wait in the dark for Ryan to get home. Then it’d be okay. Then he could sleep. Ryan would tell him about what happened, and it would put Gavin at ease.

                When he heard the front door open, he thought it to be a miracle. Heavy footsteps made their way slowly towards the bedroom, and once the bedroom door opened he could make out Ryan’s dark silhouette in the doorframe.

                “Ry,” The figure jumped slightly. But soon the light was flipped on and Gavin had to squeeze his eyes shut at the sudden brightness.

                “Gavin?” He came over to the bed and sat down on the end of it, taking off his clothes one by one. “What are you still doing up?”

                “I was waiting for you.”

                “Well, you might wanna get some sleep,” He turned and properly got into the bed, settling himself beneath the sheets. “We’re heading out early tomorrow.”

                “Now when you say ‘we’,” Gavin’s head gently hit the headboard, looking down at Ryan skeptically.

                The other just laughed softly, pulling Gavin down gently so that he could hug the Brit close. “Yes, you’re coming. It took some convincing, but Geoff said you could come. The other crew wants to meet between the Los Santos and San Andreas limits. Somewhere in the desert, I think.”

                Unbelievable. Ryan was actually letting him go? He’d actually get to see them die? Maybe he’d be the one to kill them… No, he’d better not get ahead of himself. He promised Ryan he’d stay in the car.

                But as he fell asleep in his partner’s arms, he could only help but smile at all the possibilities.

~*~

                They’d been driving for a while in Ryan’s old black Buccaneer. The sun blaring down onto the California desert around them. Even in January, its heat was still enough to make Gavin roll down the window for a breeze. The wind helped his nerves, too, he supposed.

                Rolling along, the Joshua trees and tumbleweeds all blurred with one another in the dirt, creating a mesmerizing effect that Gavin always found himself staring at whenever they made trips out into the desert. The nothingness expanded so far out. Even when the mountains cut off the long plains, he knew that the desert brush would be past it. Spread throughout the rocky canyons and mountains surrounding them. There was something about seeing nothing that brought a sort of clarity upon him. No houses, no buildings, no people. Just desert. In the rear view mirror, Gavin could see all of the loose dirt that they were kicking up due to their speed. It created a dust cloud, shielding whatever was behind them from view.

                There were so many bright clouds in the air. It was such a sunny day. In England, it was probably below freezing. Not here, though. It was nice having the sun rays beaming down onto the arm he had extended out the window. His shades pulled down over his eyes to dull all of the color and light. His head still hurt. Fuck, his entire body still hurt. Every bump in the dirt road only amplifying that pain tenfold.

                But the drive was over quicker than Gavin had expected.

                When they finally arrived, he saw that everyone else was already there. Their cars in a neat line behind them.

                The other ones were there too. Cow Chop. With one car behind them, standing about fifty feet away from the Fakes with their guns already on the ground. And judging by the way the Fakes all had their automatics pointed aggressively at the gang, Gavin assumed that they were intimidated into dropping their weapons.

                They rolled past towards the front of the line to park. And as they stopped, Gavin glanced out the tinted windows to see the other gang glaring them down. There was no way any of them could’ve seen into the windows. From the tinting and the distance combined, it would’ve been near impossible. And yet, Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the bearded man make direct eye contact with him.

                “I want to get out.” Gavin whispered.

                The Vagabond looked at him for only a moment, but quickly shut his eyes and let out a sigh. “If you think you can stand on your own,” He murmured. “Then fine.”

                Ryan got out first, but Gavin had to prepare himself. On a deep exhale he opened the car door and was hit in the face with the hot desert sun. But he was more focused on the surprised looks his presence conjured. Mostly from the Cows, who glared daggers at him. The Golden Boy just smiled, though, and waved his jeweled fingers at the men.

                There were four. The exact four that were meant to be there. Though there was one he didn’t recognize, he knew the other three quite well. The other Matt, who had stapled his forearms shut. There was the dip-dyed blond, who had done most of the damage. And then there was the bearded one. The only one who smiled right back.

                “Wow,” He said. His voice was just as high and psychotic as Gavin remembered. He willed down a shiver. “I’m surprised you actually showed up. Hey, you ever tell your crew how you offered to blow us in order to get out?”

                “Shut. Up.” Geoff’s voice was steady. “Now that we’re all here, I guess now’s the time you can try to convince us to not kill you.”

                “Ah, but isn’t your mind made up already?” Brett laughed. “If this was a fair fight then you’d let us pick up our guns.”

                “Never said nothin’ about a fight. This is a discussion. So start talkin’.”

                The man stopped for a moment, pondering Geoff’s words. But soon a smile was back on his face, and his head tilted ever so slightly. “I mean, we could beg on our knees for you to let us go. We could even give you an eye for an eye; let you rough us up for what we did to the sniper and the, uh…” He scoffed, eyes back on Gavin. “Well, whatever that one does.”

                “Hey Gav,” Michael gritted out from somewhere down the line. “Why don’t you let us know which one did that to you so we can start with them?”

                All eyes turned to him then. And when he glanced to Geoff he saw the older man giving him a small nod of the head. What did he want Gavin to do? Tell them who hurt him? Or do something himself?

                Gavin stepped forwards, feeling the Vagabond shift beside him. He glared directly into the eyes of the bearded man, and the other followed his movements inch by inch with a cold glare. His movements seemed to last forever, with the four remaining members of the gang staring him down with scowls the entire time. Gavin finally settled in front of them, less than fifteen feet away.

                He’d been thinking about what he wanted to say. Rehearsing again and again in his mind the dramatic monologue that he would do. About how their brands and knives and fists didn’t break him. About how their tightest ropes and couldn’t stop him. They would quiver as the gold dripped from his tongue.

                That didn’t happen, though. There was no dramatic monologue. It wasn’t a movie. This wasn’t the climax. This was a quiet resolution, Gavin hoped.

                He stood there, frozen in time. A line of his people behind him and a line of dangerous strangers before him.

                And then he rose his golden pistol up in front of him, the sun reflecting off of it and shining so bright in the corner of his eye. Every pair of eyes was drawn to it, watching intently. And if he pulled the trigger, he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell because there was a barrage of gunfire coming from behind him, spreading all around and crashing down upon the men in front of them like a great wave. Even past his ear plugs it was near deafening. The popping and banging of the rifles and handguns traveling around the desert and echoing off of the vast valleys. And they didn’t stop. They continued firing long after all four men had collapsed onto the ground, long after they had stopped seizing, and long after they had stopped breathing. The bullets ripped them to shreds, spreading their blood like paint onto the dirt. It was only when they ran out of ammunition did they stop.

                Gavin backed up, back towards the group, and felt his shoulders brush against his team. Once he settled into place, he noticed how none of them moved for a while. They all stood shoulder to shoulder in a line, eyes stuck on the bodies. It was so quiet. It was as though they were scared to even breathe.

                Geoff was the first one to speak. “Burn the bodies,” His voice was flat. Their kingpin stared at the bodies with an almost bored expression. But his fingers were still clutched around his pistol, tighter than they ever had been. “After it’s out, leave whatever’s left for the vultures.”

                Someone had went and gotten the gasoline, but Gavin didn’t see who. He was too focused on the corpses not twenty feet away from him. Their blood was starting to mix in the dirt, slowly making its way down the hill. A stream. A river. Trickling so slowly. Soon it was mixing with the gasoline. And soon after that it was a fire, large and kindling and angry. So hot. It felt like he was on fire too. Burning from the ground up and about to crumble down to ash.

                And yet, he was still stood upright. They were still standing. Completely still. Statues, still in their original line, all watching with passive expressions at the flesh burned off of the bones and the smoke rose higher and higher into the air. He was reminded of the branding due to the smell of burning skin. His stomach churned, but he didn’t flinch. He stayed still, his eyes fixed on the bodies which at that point had the clothes melted and fused onto them, becoming one with the blackening flesh and meat.

                He knew that people were leaving. One by one they had made their way back to their cars. Gavin, however, did not move. Did not? Could not? Probably not. He was glued to his position. Still so close to the flames. He wondered if it would spread. If the whole desert would catch ablaze. The dead weeds adding fuel to the fire. Making the hares and coyotes retreat far into the mountains. The inferno leaving no life in its wake.

                “Gavin,” Ryan’s hand was on his shoulder now. “Are you okay?”

                In his mind he answered. _I don’t know_. He thought. _I feel nothing, actually. Nothing at all, really._

                His gaze still lingered over the bodies as Ryan pulled him away, back towards the Buccaneer. Once inside, the door was shut in his face, but he could still see the fire. He could still smell the burning skin. He could make out even the finest details of the charred remains. And he could still see them even when they were long out of the rear view. Burned into his eyelids. He felt nothing much at all.

                Originally, he thought that putting a bullet in the brains of those who hurt him would have been cathartic. It would’ve helped to ease his mind and stop all of the bad thoughts. The thoughts of kidnapping and torture and how badly he was still hurt. But that didn’t happen. He rode in the car and those thoughts still plagued him. Each second was another memory, each bump in the rode was another jolt of pain. But now he had the memory of that gang laying out in the middle of the desert with an oasis of blood surrounding them. Perhaps Ryan was right. Maybe he should have stayed home. But it didn’t matter much at that point; what was done was done, and he had to learn how to deal with it.

                Glancing down to the center console, he saw Ryan’s hand upturned and open. Without any hesitation he put his hand into Ryan’s and interlocked their fingers together.

                The sun was still up, beaming down onto the desert. Warming the dirt and the yucca and all of the animals who scurried around in the nothingness. Warming Gavin, who was sitting in the car and staring out of the window while he slowly rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Ryan’s hand. The light hit his eyes, and when he closed them he could feel each particle of light on his skin. And when he breathed in, he tasted ash and dust and sunlight.

                Yes, he would have to deal with new nightmares. He would have to deal with new guilt and the new knowledge that no matter what happened he would always remember exactly how painful everything had been. These memories would be vivid. Debilitating. He wasn’t sure if it would ever get better. But, perhaps, they might get easier.

                He could feel Ryan’s fingers tighten around his own, coaxing a sigh from Gavin’s lungs and a content smile from his face.

                At least he wouldn’t be alone.

~*~

                His hands clung to the headboard for dear life, and he could see just how white his knuckles were getting from the force. It was getting harder to hold himself up and had Ryan’s fingers not been digging into his hips he would’ve definitely collapsed by that point.

                Each thrust forward was pushing Gavin further away, but at the same time he was being pulled right back, making the impact all the more brutal. Brutal, and yet so, so good. He also knew that Ryan could go much harder, so that’s exactly what he asked for. Screaming for it, really.

                And Ryan obliged happily, a low chuckle rising from his chest and Gavin knew quite well that the other was probably sporting a wickedly sinister grin behind him.

                His hands shifted to get a better grip in the headboard, which allowed him to gain a better leverage and look over his shoulder at Ryan. It made the other lose his mind every time Gavin did it, and he be damned if seeing Ryan go harder from just one look didn’t drive him crazy as well.

                Groans escaped his throat on every other thrust forward, and the harder Ryan went the louder they became. It was like a game, almost. There were so many buttons Ryan loved to push in order to get his Brit to scream out his pleasure. There was a swift slap to Gavin’s ass, making him moan Ryan’s name into the room. Of course, it followed with a few expletives and another smack to his ass.

                Ryan’s rhythm started to falter, and his whole body got closer to Gavin’s back, and Gavin knew that it was nearly over. He was so close himself.

                He felt Ryan’s grip change, and soon he was getting flipped around in the bed. His hands were ripped from the bedframe and clung openly in the air for a second, eventually landing on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan had pulled out, leaving Gavin feeling incredibly empty too soon, but was hunched over the Brit stroking himself. The deep growl that left him once he came was music to Gavin’s ears, and when he felt Ryan’s mess hit his chest he moaned and wiggled and begged for Ryan to touch him. And when Ryan obliged he practically sobbed, his long-neglected cock finally having contact. It didn’t take long. Just a few strokes and he was over the edge, eyes screwed shut and nails digging harshly into his lover’s shoulder blades.

                When he opened his eyes, he noticed that Ryan was staring right back at him. Both of their chests heaved and sweat was running down both of their bodies. Gavin almost giggled at the thought of them getting too old to go as hard. But something stopped his giggle; Ryan seemed to have something lingering behind his eyes. Something intense. Heavy. Gavin brought one of his hands from Ryan’s shoulders up to his cheek. He gave Ryan a soft smile, hoping to relieve whatever was going on in Ryan’s head. And it worked, it seemed, because Ryan was smiling back and looking down at Gavin with a much easier gaze.

                “Hey,” He said, bringing a thumb up to Gavin’s chin and playing with his jaw slightly. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

                It felt as though balloons were lifting off inside of Gavin’s chest. His smile getting wider and more genuine as he looked at his partner above him. His hands went around Ryan’s neck and he pulled the other down closer, giggling and cooing as he did so. “Aw, happy Valentine’s Day, Ry!”

                They kissed for a minute, and then Gavin could feel the cum on his chest and immediately got grossed out. “Wait, Ry! You prick! You know I hate it when you get spunk in my hair!”

                Ryan’s laugh was low and mischievous, and he cocked an eyebrow to Gavin. “I was wondering when you’d notice.” He tried to kiss Gavin again, but the younger man wasn’t having it. He pushed at Ryan’s chest until the other laughed and got up to get a towel.

                It was then that Gavin got a glance at the inside of his forearm. The long, purple scar forever visible against his skin. It’d been near a month since it all happened, and yet everything was still so fresh in Gavin’s mind. Like it happened just the day before. His brain would replay everything. Projecting it behind his eyelids so that he couldn’t escape it. The room. The people. The knife. The brand. The pile of bodies burning in the middle of the desert.

                He wondered if he’d ever stop thinking about it all.

                Ryan came back into the room with a warm washrag and started to clean Gavin’s chest, peppering him with small kisses here and there. The kisses were going further up Gavin’s body until they reached his face, and Gavin so willingly let himself melt into another kiss.

                _I love you._

                He thought to himself as Ryan laid down on his side of the bed.

                _I love you._

                He thought as Ryan pulled him into his chest, and Gavin felt so warm and protected.

                _I love you._

                He thought, but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. Not when he was so tired and already drifting off into a comfortable sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a complete retribution. Nor was it ever going to be. Things don't always come to a nice, wrapped-up-with-a-bow conclusion in real life. I wanted this to be realistic; What would Gavin carry with him for the rest of his life? How would he deal with mental illness and how does it affect his relationship with himself and those around him? We don't always get answers for things in our lives. And he don't always get happy endings. But we can find happiness in some of those endings anyway, even if the ending in and of itself isn't particularly positive. Anyway, I'm rambling. I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you again!


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